Partners
by Angela6257
Summary: Sometimes the biggest battle isn't finding the bad guy or solving the case or figuring out whodunnit. Sometimes the biggest battle is with your partner. Or maybe it's with yourself.
1. Chapter 1

"Oh you have got to be kidding me." With a bad-tempered sigh, Kensi sat back in her seat and closed her eyes. It's not like she was going anywhere anyway.

"Sorry, Kens." Eric's apologetic voice filtered through her earwig. "This one happened fast. Started out as a three car pile-up and escalated fast. You were already on the highway before it got bad, so there was no way to warn you."

"Told you." Deeks' sotto voce murmur didn't help her mood one bit.

"No, you didn't." She almost turned to punch him before remembering he wasn't in the car with her.

"I did too," insisted Deeks righteously. "I told you to follow me…"

"Your exact words were 'eat my dust'."

"That was only after your entirely improper suggestion as to where I could stick my stick shift."

"Well that was after…"

"Children, children. Am I going to have to separate you?" Callen's voice broke in.

"You already did, remember?" Kensi opened her eyes, but the brake lights in front of her hadn't moved. At all. "Which explains why I'm stuck here by myself in the middle of four lanes of parking lot instead of…"

"Why, Kensi Blye!" said Deeks, voice one of astonished delight. She thought there was a note of something deeper underneath. "Are you saying you miss me?"

She never missed a beat. "...sitting in the back of a squad car under arrest for assaulting an LAPD detective."

"Well." Deeks was struggling not to laugh—she knew just what that sounded like—and it brought a hint of a smile to her own lips. Maybe, just maybe, this would all work out after all. Maybe nothing had been ruined. Maybe, just maybe, out of the catastrophic mess her life had become, there would be something salvageable.

And maybe that something would be her relationship with Deeks.

It took almost an hour to maneuver her way to the next exit, and by the time she made it back to the boathouse she was considerably behind the rest of the team. Callen and Sam were interrogating their witness, and Deeks was sitting on the table outside, monitoring the session. The normal spark of humor was gone from his gaze, and she wasn't sure if it was because of the nature of the case or something more personal. She wasn't sure which she'd prefer.

With a tired sigh, she tossed her go-bag in a chair then slid onto the table next to Deeks. He didn't speak, and neither did she, and within moments the air in the normally large and roomy space felt thick and stale. It had been this way for days now. Publicly they were the same old Deeks-and-Kensi, sniping and arguing and teasing like nothing had happened. Even now if Callen or Sam joined them she knew that neither Callen's sharp eyes nor Sam's emotional intuitiveness would be able to detect anything different between them. But in private—the few times they'd allowed themselves to be alone, anyway—it had been awkward and uncomfortable and painful. Today apparently wasn't going to change that. Kensi tried to swallow the hard knot of regret and bitterness and grief that was all but choking her. This was exactly why she never allowed herself to get close, why she'd spent so much of her life, of her time and energy building walls to protect herself from just this sort of pain. Her mistake was in allowing Deeks in, letting him past the walls. Believing that he was somehow different. That he wouldn't leave her in the end.

Her eyes dry, she stared up at the screen, watching Callen and Sam as they circled the suspect. From now on, she'd focus on the job and forget the personal stuff. Eventually it'd be easier, wouldn't it? Eventually the pain would die down and the hurt would ease, and she'd go back to being the prodigy NCIS agent she'd been before. And if she had to sacrifice a personal life to make that happen, well, so much the better.

Because nothing was worth this.

* * *

><p>Deeks kept his eyes trained on the screen, but he was hyperaware of every tiny movement or fidget Kensi made. She wasn't happy. Clearly she wasn't happy. But neither was he, and damned if he'd make the first move this time.<p>

Callen and Sam exited the interrogation room at that time, and as if on cue Deeks and Kensi both moved, posture loosening a bit and features easing into friendlier lines. The problems between them were theirs and no one else's, and neither of them was comfortable discussing it with anyone else. At least, Deeks assumed that's why Kensi hadn't spilled the beans.

"Looks like he's close," Sam was saying.

"Yeah. We'll give him a couple minutes to contemplate the errors of his ways." Callen's lips quirked. "Between that and your 10 minute spiel on the likelihood of him ending up as someone's bitch in federal lock-up, he ought to be about ready to spill everything he knows."

Sam smiled smugly. "What can I say? I read him like a book."

"Oh really? Cause I could have sworn you wanted to start off with the Geiger effect." Sam grinned, and Kensi snorted beside him, and Deeks realized this was yet another reference to which he wasn't privy. It didn't hurt the way it had in the beginning—they'd all been through too much together for that—but given the strain and tension between him and his partner, it stung more than it should. "Wasn't that your suggestion, Dr. Geiger?"

"Doesn't matter now, does it?" Sam rolled his shoulders, preparing to go back in. "Cause what I did say worked liked a charm."

"Let's go, Mr. Charm." Callen started towards the interrogation room. "I'd say he's stewed long enough." Sam followed, and they both paused near the door, out of sight of the other two. Callen nodded his head towards where Deeks and Kensi still sat, silent. "So. Still not worked it out?"

"Doesn't look like it." Sam rolled his eyes. "You think it's time to step in?"

Callen contemplated it for a long moment, then smiled ruefully. "I'm not ready to step into the middle of that yet. You remember what happened the last time someone tried to get in between them? Let's give it a few days, see what plays out."

Sam winced in memory. "Yeah. Poor Eric." He shook his head. "Bet he won't ever look at duct tape in the same way."

Callen shuddered a little in sympathy at the memory. "Bet he won't ever forget to lock the door to the john again." He shook it off. "Come on." He opened the door to the interrogation room, then followed his partner in.

* * *

><p>Kensi took a deep breath after the other two agents left, letting it out slowly. This was hard, maybe harder than anything else she was dealing with right now. The aching void that had blossomed into existence after her dad's unexplained death had become increasingly difficult to dismiss, and she'd found herself knocking on doors and asking questions for the first time in 15 years. Granger, the new assistant director, had it in for her and had made it more than plain that her efforts to investigate her father's murder were going to get her in hot water if she persisted. And yet that wasn't what was keeping her up at night, or causing the almost painful tension in her body right now.<p>

No, that was the fight between her and Deeks. The fight that she had started and that she had escalated, and the fight within which she had said some truly unforgivable things to Deeks, causing him to reply with some equally brutal and wholly unforgettable truths of his own.

And she didn't think they were ever going to recover.

_She'd just come back from her latest fruitless trip to Hawaii. Granger had been waiting for her at the entrance to the mission, and he'd trailed her all the way in to the bullpen, voice calm as he proceeded to rip her a new one. She'd managed to escape to the firing range, only to find out that her gun had inexplicably jammed. And her last attempt at an escape had been foiled when Deeks had been using the punching bag in the gym. She'd taken a bad-tempered swipe at the bag, and it had rebounded right into Deeks' unprotected face. His hands had gone to his nose, which had begun to bleed._

_"What the hell, Kensi?"_

_The guilt she felt had only added fuel to the flame. "Move it, Deeks. Let one of the real agents get some bag time."_

_Hurt had flashed across his features, and then his eyes had narrowed. "What is that supposed to mean?"_

_Somehow even though she'd known how unfair it was, how wrong and how _mean_, she'd been unable to stop the words from tumbling out. "You know exactly what I mean. You're just in here wasting time, taking up space that an agent could be using. I don't even know why you bother. It's not like you're going to be doing any of the heavy lifting."_

_"Oh really?" he sneered, taking a step towards her. Behind him, the room began to clear, agents and personnel eyeing the two of them as they sidled out the doors. "Seems to me I've saved your ass a few times. Or don't you consider that heavy lifting? Because you may be skinny but carrying you gets pretty damned old."_

_"Saved me? How do you figure that?" She wanted to scream, wanted to staple her own lips together, but her mouth just kept going. "I take care of myself. I don't need anybody else's help. I especially don't need yours."_

_"So, for example, I guess you were going to get yourself out of those lasers?" His own voice was raised now, temper prodded right past smoldering and into spontaneous combustion._

_"I would never have gotten caught in the first place if I'd been driving." She took a step forward now. "And then I had to worry about you getting yourself shot. Again. So that was all your fault, not mine." Logic and truth had no place in this fight._

_He took a deep, sharp breath, as if she'd hit him physically. Slapped him across the face. In his eyes, she saw shame burning there, and acknowledgement. And she realized then that he believed what she'd just said._

_And to her everlasting shame, it just spurred her on._

_"It's all been your fault. From the beginning, from when we started. Having you for a partner is like having a rookie, only one with no training and no skills. I've had to carry you like a sack over my shoulder for the last two years, and frankly I'm just sick of it"_

_And finally, having said something really unforgivable, her ire died down and her words dried up._

_Just as Deeks got started._

_"You know what, Special Agent Kensi Blye? Being your partner isn't exactly all kittens and lollipops either. You're so damned hard on yourself that it makes you hard on anyone who has the misfortune to be stuck with you, which has been my lot in life the last two years. You are too impulsive for your own good, and that's what gets you into trouble. If you'd waited two more minutes before jumping into the car with the Russians, Callen and Sam would have been there, and maybe you wouldn't have had to have been rescued from the lasers. Something I did without questions or complaint, by the way." He looked down his nose at her. "Something I always do without question or complaint. And maybe, just maybe, I'm sick of that. Maybe it's time I start watching my own back, because God knows there isn't anyone else around here that's going to do it. And watching yours is just plain exhausting."_

Kensi had replayed the argument in her head a thousand times since, hearing the horrible awful things she'd said, the painfully truthful things he'd said, and the only conclusion she could come to is that Deeks had been right. And that perhaps the two of them weren't really a good combination. They weren't good as partners.

She wasn't a good partner.

It was hard for her to admit that, harder still to understand that there was a reason she'd never had a long-term partnership that was successful. Hard to force herself to realize that she had been the weak link. She was surprised Deeks hadn't already asked for a new partner. He certainly deserved one.

Just then, Deeks sighed unhappily, and with a muffled sob, she turned and fled the room.

* * *

><p>Deeks sat there, watching as Callen and Sam wrapped up the interview. They'd gotten their confession and a full admission of guilt, but Deeks had heard little of it. His focus had been on his partner, even though he'd studiously looking at her or speaking to her or even acknowledging her presence. He was still pretty angry at her, for the things she'd said and the way she'd acted and, if he was honest, the undeserved punch to the nose. But he also regretted deeply the things he'd said in response. He'd known how tightly wound she was, and he'd known the stress she'd been dealing with as she begun delving into her father's case. It was certain that having Granger ride her so hard wasn't helping. He wished he'd held on to his temper.<p>

But none of that explained why he hadn't spoken to her in ten days outside of team communication. It didn't have anything to do with why he hadn't been to her house or she to his. Why the two of them hadn't gone out for burgers or beers or crashed on one of the sofas in the mission to relax together. Why he wasn't able to move past this stupid brutal argument.

No, that was all due to the terrible fear niggling at the back of Deeks' subconscious that maybe, just maybe, she'd been right.

Oh, he knew that he'd saved her life when she'd been stuck behind the lasers in a room set to blow up. Her muscles had been close to collapse by the time he'd arrived, and he'd seen in her eyes just how very fragile and tenuous her stance had been by the time she'd put her hands in his. She couldn't have lasted much longer, and if he hadn't gotten there to turn the light off, deflect the triggers, and then finally yank her to safety she would have died there in that room.

But what if it was his fault she'd been stuck there in the first place?

He knew he didn't have the training the other agents did. He'd never done the DOD courses that they had, or the weapons training, or even the defensive and offensive maneuvering skills they had both behind the wheel and on the street. He was a fine cop, a very good cop, but LAPD just didn't have the resources or the arsenal comparable to what was available at NCIS. What if he weakened Kensi? What if worrying about him getting shot again was what had prompted her to put herself in the Russians' hands?

And why shouldn't it be? He'd been shot before and used to lure her out, her life in danger because of him.

He couldn't quite dismiss the idea that he was the weak link. He was a danger to Kensi, and that she deserved better than him. He didn't know why she hadn't already asked Hetty for a better partner. She certainly deserved one.

And knowing that, he didn't want to start a conversation with Kensi that was going to end at that one inescapable conclusion.

But the silent treatment wasn't going to work either. He had to admit that. In their line of work with their lives on the line, they had to have minimal lines of communication open. Deeks sighed heavily, then opened his mouth to say something, anything to her.

Only before he could, she made a single unhappy whimper and hurried out of the room.

Deeks sighed again, deliberated for a very long moment, and then turned his attention back to the screen. Callen and Sam were coming out, and if both he and Kensi were gone it would be hard to explain. And if there was a hint of avoidance in that rationalization, then Deeks told himself it was for the good of the case.

But deep down, he knew he had to talk to his partner, and soon. And probably soon after that, he'd be finding a new one.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, but I promise to put everyone back when I'm done playing.**

**Thanks so much for the reviews and alerts. :)**

* * *

><p>Kensi curled her toes into the sand, letting the wonder of a glorious sunset sky and the play of cool grains between her toes soothe her tangled emotions and tattered spirits. It had been a hard day, and a long one. And while she was glad it was over, she'd found herself at loose ends when it was time to go home.<p>

It had never bothered her before. Being home alone had been soothing, and the quiet time to herself always allowed her time to recover from the stress of her job and living so many lives. Living so many _lies_. She'd always needed that time in order to recover herself, to ground herself in that which was both familiar and uniquely hers. Stepping into different roles had become a way of life, but no matter how many years you spent working undercover you never really quite got used to being someone else. Or at least, you shouldn't. The day you can't tell where you end and the cover begins is the day you get yourself or someone else killed.

But for the last couple of years, her options for after hours had changed a bit. It had started with a few beers here and a side trip to the beach there. Going out with the team once or twice a week. Going over to her partner's house or having him come to hers. Slowly but surely her habits had changed, and while she still spent several nights a week at home, she was rarely alone there. And sometimes it wasn't her home. Somehow or another Deeks always knew just when to show up and just what to bring, or just when to drag her over to his place. Sometimes he crashed on her couch, sometimes she ended up on his futon.

Thinking back, she realized it had all probably started after the Stan King case. She'd been nursing a very sore jaw and contemplating an early night—after Top Model, of course—when Deeks had come tapping on her door. He'd had beer and a burger for himself and a smoothie for her; an offer which she'd appreciated but gladly declined in favor of the beer. She'd drunk the better part of the six pack he'd brought, and due to the fact that she'd had nothing to eat all day since breakfast except a soda water with ice provided by the suspect, the beer had hit her much harder than she'd expected. Deeks had been spectacularly understanding, laughing at what were almost certainly her terrible jokes, holding her close when she'd gotten weepy. She didn't remember much after that, but he must have poured her into bed at some point because she'd woken up the following morning fully dressed with the blanket pulled over her and a headache the size of Mount Kilimanjaro. She'd stumbled into the kitchen only to find Deeks holding out a cup of coffee and a box full of fresh donuts. He'd launched into an explanation just as she'd launched into the coffee and donuts, and after two bites she'd stopped him with a long, hard hug. She hoped he'd understood that it was for more than just the donuts. It had been for the support, for knowing he was 'with her every step of the way', even if she couldn't see him. It had been for beer and smoothies, and for coffee and donuts. Most of all, it was a gesture of gratitude to a good partner.

Her lips twisted as unbidden moisture sprang to her eyes. How could she have forgotten that night? How could she have let herself forget that night, and all the nights when he'd shown up at her door with take out or a six pack in hand? When he'd had her back in a tricky op? When he'd pulled her out of a room full of lasers, or pulled her out of a funk or a bad mood? She let herself flop backwards onto the soft sand, intending to cover damp eyes with an upraised arm….

….only to tense, startled, at the sight of a tall, dark shadow standing directly behind her.

"You got any idea how long I've been here?"

She sighed heavily. "Um…a minute or two?" she asked hopefully.

"Almost ten." Sam sat down next to her, looking at her critically. "What's up, Kens?"

"Up?" she repeated innocently. As innocently as she could with her eyes still damp and an unhappy twist to her mouth, anyway. "I don't know what you.."

"C'mon, Kensi. Don't play me. I've known you too long for that." He rested his arms on his upraised knees, then turned to look at her quizzically as she pulled herself back upright. "You haven't been yourself for days now. You think I can't tell?"

"I'm fine." The words almost brought a fresh set of tears as she thought of how many times they'd all let her get away with it, and how many times Deeks hadn't.

"Please," scoffed Sam. "I've been standing behind you for ten minutes without you even being aware. Are your instincts really that off?"

She had no reply to that. None that would work, anyway.

"Is it because of the situation between you and Deeks?"

She whirled to look at him, eyes widened just a bit. "What do you mean by that?"

"Did you really think nobody knew?" he said softly. "You know what we do for a living. We're trained to figure this stuff out." He paused, then nudged her shoulder with his own. "Plus since when does Eric let any office gossip go unsniffed."

She smiled at that, and he nudged her again. "Tell me all about it." But she didn't respond, and he began to gently brush the sand out of her hair and off her back. "Or do you want me to guess? I can come up with some pretty crazy stuff." She shrugged a little, so he continued. "Let's see…I'm betting Deeks said something funny. Something he thinks passes for funny anyway, and you…didn't think it was so funny." She didn't move. "Okay, maybe not. Maybe he pried a little too much, got under your skin, and you didn't react so well." At her lack of reaction, he tried again. "He stood you up for a primo shorty?"

"It was me." Her voice was low, barely audible. "It was all me. I did it. I started it. And I…I said some things…" She broke then, finally, and Sam was sure he should be relieved that she was finally letting it out…but it was hard to make himself believe that, hearing her heartbroken sobs. He gathered her close and held her, rocking a little, and let her cry herself out.

Some time later, minutes or hours or maybe even days, Kensi wasn't sure, she finally drew slowly away from Sam, brushing ineffectively at his shirt. There was a large damp patch there where she'd cried all over him, and it embarrassed her as much as anything ever had. "Sorry 'bout that," she said, ducking her head, wishing she hadn't been so weak.

He shrugged. "Nothing wrong with honest emotion. We've all done it."

She snorted, disbelieving. "Oh yeah? Tell me about the last time you cried all over Callen."

"Okay." He met her surprised gaze, his own eyes solemn. "Last time I cried with my partner was when he was shot and he almost died. I held his body in my arms, Kensi. I held on to him and I told him to hang on and stay with me. And I cried. I'm not ashamed of that."

She'd thought she was all cried out, but at his honest, heartfelt words she felt fresh tears spring to her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said again.

"I didn't tell you that to make you feel bad, baby girl," he said gently, touching the side of her face lightly. "I told you that to make you feel better. It's okay to feel. It's okay to have a heart."

She took a deep, hard breath then exhaled slowly. She'd spent so many years hiding her emotions. It had started when she was fifteen, sitting across from a couple of MPs who couldn't have been kinder but had made it very clear that dealing with a teenage girl was out of their comfort zone. It had been easier on them to stuff the pain down, to hide the tears and the fears and the sheer horror while they'd said what they had to say. Easier for them, and easier for her. And as the world had gotten more confusing and bewildering as she'd been pushed and shuffled between relatives who either suffered her presence or just plain didn't want her, putting on a stoic face had been the only way she'd kept her sanity. It had kept her moving and going, pushing toward a life where she didn't depend on anyone or anything but herself. And up until a couple of years ago, that's the way she'd liked it. Right up until Deeks came along.

Now things had changed, and she had changed, and hiding it all away was just too damned hard. Giving up, she laid her head on Sam's shoulder, feeling comforted when he put his arm around her back and pulled her close.

"It was after my last trip to Hawaii," she whispered. "I came back in a…in a really foul mood because I'm not doing any good over there." He didn't ask her what she was doing there, and, grateful, she kept going. "I walked in and Granger was waiting for me. He followed me from the door to the bullpen, and he just kept after me about it. Warning me that my job was in danger and that he was going to write me up for insubordination and that I could be prosecuted for misuse of my authority as an NCIS agent and interfering with a federal investigation." Kensi took one deep, shuddering breath. "I didn't even _know_ my dad's case was a federal investigation. And to be hit with it there in the bullpen by him, when I've been over there asking and no one even said anything…" She shook her head hard, and Sam stroked her back before curving his hand around her shoulder once more. "I didn't know what to say. I didn't even respond to him because I was…I was in shock, I think. So I stood there and took it, and when he finally left I just wanted to get away and…and forget. So I went to the range, only my gun wouldn't work. I was out of my mind, Sam. I couldn't think where to go or what to do. So I went to the gym, thinking I'd punch the bag until I couldn't think at all any more."

She paused in the telling, having come to the really hard part. She wondered briefly if repeating it to Sam would cause him to think differently about her, and then she realized if it did, it was no more than she deserved. "Deeks was already there using the bag. I hit it anyway, and it…it hit him in the face, Sam."

"Wasn't the first time someone smacked that pretty face of his," Sam said lightly, squeezing her shoulder.

"That wasn't all." She scrunched her eyes shut, wishing she could shut out the ugly memories as easily as she shut out the sunset and the ocean in front of her. "I started yelling at him, and I said…I said horrible things. _Mean_ things. Things that weren't true, and weren't fair. Things I never should have said." She looked at Sam then, meeting his understanding eyes with misery in her gaze. "I could tell by looking at him how much I was hurting him. And that didn't stop me. It made me say more things."

Sam's voice was quiet. "What kind of things?"

"I told him he wasn't as good as a real agent, and…and that he'd almost gotten me killed."

"Oh, Kens." There was a world of emotion in Sam's voice, but all Kensi heard was condemnation.

"I know!" she hissed, trying to jerk away. "I know how bad it was." Her voice began to rise. "I know how wrong it was. I knew it while I was saying it, and I just couldn't seem to stop myself. It was…I was…" Agitated, she tried to pull away and stand up, but Sam just pulled her close again.

"Shhh," he soothed, "It's okay, Kensi. It's okay." Trembling now, she relaxed into the shelter of his arm once more.

"But don't you see?" she said slowly. "It's not okay. It's really not. And maybe it won't ever be okay again."

Just then, both of their phones chirped. Sam pulled his out to check it, and Kensi waited while he read the message.

"New case," he said. "They need us back at the mission." He stood up, then pulled her to her feet. She looked up at him miserably. "Don't think about it right now. Get your mind on the case. But Kensi, I promise you, it will all work out. Deeks isn't one to hold a grudge."

Kensi turned and followed him to the parking lot, trudging her way through the sand. She wished she was as sure as he was that it would all work out, but she just couldn't make herself believe it.

* * *

><p>"This is Lieutenant Daniel O'Hara. We believe he was part of a criminal ring that was last operating out of Camp Pendleton." Nell's voice accompanied a series of images appearing on the big screen of a stern-faced young man, blonde hair cropped short. "He got involved in low-level smuggling out of war zones at first, but as the group became more organized they evolved into bigger crimes. The latest is a combination of money-laundering and counterfeiting."<p>

"What happened to O'Hara?" Callen asked.

A grisly image appeared onscreen. "He was murdered." Eric picked up the narrative now. "His badly beaten body was found a couple of miles outside of camp, left on the side of the road. ME places time of death at almost six weeks ago. But he wasn't reported AWOL until four weeks later."

"How is that possible?" Sam frowned, moving closer to the screen. "Can't everybody in the unit be crooked."

"That's what we're going to find out," said Hetty from the doorway. "You're all four going in."

They turned to look at her in surprise. Callen was the first to respond.

"You're putting us all under cover at Camp Pendleton?"

"Oh no, Mr. Callen." Hetty smiled enigmatically. "The unit was moved a month ago. You're all going to the new base. Marine Corps Base Hawaii."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: As always, thank you for the kind reviews, alerts, and favorites. You guys are awesome!**

**Happy birthday to SunnyCitrus10, who always makes me smile and who almost shares a birthday with one Marty Deeks himself!**

**This chapter is a continuation and retelling of parts of chapter 2, so it would be very helpful to have read that first.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em>The Dodge Challenger slowed to a stop, the glow of the late afternoon sunshine hiding the occupants from view. There was a silence in the car that lasted several minutes before the man in the passenger seat spoke.<em>

_"You sure we need to do this?"_

_"Don't complain. At least I gave you the easy part."_

_Callen turned to look out at the beach and the dozens of shaggy blonde heads riding the crests of the waves. "I'm not sure this is the easy part. Just finding him is going to take the rest of the afternoon."_

_Sam snorted. "Oh yeah? You want to try and get Kensi to open up about her feelings?"_

_"Good point." And with that, Callen opened the door and got out, then bent down to the open window. "Okay, let's do this. Operation Fix the Team is on."_

* * *

><p>Deeks hopped nimbly off his board, then splashed the last few feet into shore. He had needed this, he thought. Needed the freedom the waves afforded him, and the unique combination of adrenaline buzz and peacefulness that surfing always provided. He hadn't been to the gym at the mission since the disastrous fight with Kensi, and running himself into exhaustion helped him sleep at night but provided no real pleasure.<p>

No, surfing was his escape, and had been since he was a boy trying to find a way out of a home that was neither safe nor welcoming. His father had beaten his mother, and his mother had been too busy protecting herself to have any room left to worry about her son, and between the two of them he'd spent most of his childhood both terrified and furious. Staring at his father over the twin barrels of a shotgun had been one of the most satisfying experiences of his life, and even if his mother hadn't particularly appreciated it he'd still known that he'd saved her life, and probably his own. But it had been surfing that had saved his soul, and to this day when he felt unhappy or overwhelmed or even just blue it was surfing that eased it best.

Well, okay. That wasn't strictly true. Deeks stuck his surfboard tail first into the sand, then sat down in its shadow. For the last couple of years, it had been his partner and not his surfboard that had become his go-to in times of stress. He wasn't quite sure how exactly it had happened, but somehow he'd ended up spending more and more of his free time hanging out with her, sometimes even crashing at her place or throwing a blanket and pillow at his futon for her. In the beginning, he'd thought it was for her sake. He knew she didn't decompress enough, didn't let herself relax and let things go the way she should. She didn't eat healthy, didn't take vitamins, didn't know the difference between whole grain and Whole Foods. So he'd go over to her place with a six-pack and Chinese take out, knowing full well she'd never realize she was eating bean sprouts and tofu so long as there was enough soy sauce on it. He snuck the occasional whole-wheat donut in the box, although she was better at figuring that one out. And if sometimes she ate a turkey burger, then nobody was the wiser.

But somehow during all this, he'd come to realize she wasn't the only one benefiting from their after hours arrangement. He was able to relax with her in a way he hadn't before. He could joke around with her, or sit in silence watching one of her reality shows or his stupid sitcoms, and the peace he found in doing so was both unfamiliar and unprecedented. She was so funny sometimes. Not intentionally, of course; Kensi's sense of humor still lacked mightily. No, she didn't mean to be funny, but she was so solemn and so serious, so competitive without even realizing it that he found himself amused by her more often than not. She was a good complement to his more easy-going, freewheeling style. She kept him grounded. And getting a rise out of her had become one of his daily goals. That, and making her smile. He'd become quite skilled at both.

He'd thought they were a good team. He'd known she was a good partner to him, anyway, and he'd assumed she felt the same way. Right up until the moment she'd looked him in the eye and told him that she didn't. That he was a burden to her, and that he'd put her life in danger. Like a rotten tooth those words had been festering in the back of his mind ever since, and no matter how much he'd tried to put them away, to tell himself she hadn't really meant them, there was a part of him that kept saying that she believed them, deep down. And knowing that, it was hard for him not to believe it too. Even surfing wasn't enough to fix that.

He looked down then, rubbing hard at his forehead, wishing he could rub the entire thing away completely.

"Headache?"

He looked up at that, somehow not completely surprised to find Callen standing there looking at him.

"Nah." Deeks shook his head, looked down again. "At least, not the kind you mean."

Callen sat down next to him, and for a space of several minutes there was silence between them. Deeks was the one to break it.

"If you're here for a surfing lesson, you're a little too late. I finished a half hour ago."

"That's not why I'm here." But Callen didn't elaborate. Deeks grew a little curious.

"Hot beach babes? The weather isn't quite there yet, but give it a couple of months and…"

"That's not why I'm here either." Sounding amused, Callen turned to look at Deeks. "You really can't figure it out?"

Deeks took a deep, hard breath. She'd really gone and done it. Somehow he'd hoped, prayed even that it wouldn't actually come to this. "Kensi."

"Well, you and Kensi," said Callen. He studied Deeks' face. "And whatever it is going on between you."

Deeks exhaled slowly, not even really aware he'd been holding his breath. "You mean she didn't… you're not here because…" He stopped, looked away. "Did Kensi request a new partner?"

"Of course not." Callen could see that Deeks was serious, but at the same time he could hardly believe that the other man believed that Kensi would go that far. "Deeks, what exactly did you do?"

It was a fair question. He'd spent a good portion of the last two years figuring out exactly how far he could get under Kensi's skin without causing too big an explosion in response, and he prided himself on allowing just enough wiggle room for him to get away with a lot. But with the fight with Kensi still weighing so heavily, the question struck a raw nerve.

"What the hell, Callen? Really?" He turned and looked at the other man. "Why do you assume I did something to her? Did it ever occur to you—to any of you—that maybe she did something to me?"

Callen watched him calmly, a spark of speculation in his gaze. "I didn't mean anything in particular by that, Deeks. You asked if Kensi requested a new partner, and I just assumed… Look, I'm sorry."

Deeks closed his eyes, then took a deep breath. Callen wasn't at fault here. "No, it's okay. It's just that things haven't been so good between me and Kensi, and I guess you struck a nerve."

"Dare I ask what did happen?"

Deeks smiled bitterly. "I don't even know if I could tell you." Don't know if I should. He still felt loyal to Kensi, loyal to their relationship despite the current strain between them. He wouldn't be the one to betray that relationship.

When it became clear that Deeks wasn't going to volunteer anything further, Callen took the initiative. "Let me tell you what I know, then," he said. "First, I know that things are not right between you and Kensi. You put on a good show, but in private you don't speak. At all. I also know that a couple of weeks ago the two of you got into it in the gym, and before personnel cleared out some fairly serious stuff went down." He turned to look at Deeks, watching him carefully. "And I know that you haven't seen her outside of work since that day. You haven't called her or gone by, and neither has she. Does that pretty well cover it?"

Deeks breathed a quick, silent laugh, although it didn't reach his eyes. "I don't know why anyone tries to hide anything over there. Eric?" Callen didn't answer. "Okay, yes, that pretty well covers it."

"And?"

"And what?" said Deeks defensively "There is no 'and'. That's it."

"Look, Deeks, you can talk to me about it now, or you can keep it yourself. And if you…"

"Uh, I'll take option B, please."

Callen sighed, trying to be patient. "And if you keep it yourself, it's only a matter of time before Hetty gets involved."

There was another extended silence before Deeks replied. "Well, there is that." He turned then and met Callen's calm gaze squarely. "I'm not trying to lie to you, or stall you here, Callen. It's just…it's not all my story to tell."

Callen smiled at the younger man then, a genuine smile of affection and approval. "You know, Deeks, one of your very finest qualities is loyalty. Even when you're so mad at Kensi you can't see straight, you're still holding on to your loyalty to her."

"I'm not mad at Kensi."

"You're so pissed at her you've practically got steam coming out your ears." Deeks' eyes narrowed and his mouth tightened, but Callen kept going. "You're so pissed at her you're pissed at me, right now. Hell, you're so pissed at her that I think you're pissed at yourself." Shock widened Deeks' eyes momentarily. "Ah. Gotcha on that one, didn't I?"

"Well so what if I am? Do you blame me?" Frustrated, Deeks got to his feet and began pacing. "I mean, two years I've been putting in time here, thinking I was part of the team and that I had a partner who had my back. And in one lousy afternoon she took that all away. Yanked it out of my hands, when I wasn't looking."

"You're right."

Callen's calm agreement did nothing to pacify Deeks. "And who is she to tell me I'm not a real agent anyway? It's not like she's perfect. Miss I'm So Tightly Wound I Creak When I Walk. She thinks she's infallible, and she takes chances like she's made of steel. I've thought for two years she was insane, and I'm pretty sure I was right. She should have been dead a dozen times over since I came on board, and by all rights she would be, except that I…"

"You what?" said Callen softly.

"I saved her life." Deeks stopped pacing and rubbed his eyes with both hands, then scrubbed his hand through his still-wet hair. He moved to stand in front of Callen. "And that's the part that's getting me. That's the part that has me up all night. What if I didn't, Callen?"

"I'm not following here. We've all seen you do it, and more than once. So I don't get where you're questioning…"

"What if it's my inexperience that got her in trouble in the first place? Like with the Russians…my bad driving, or maybe her trying to protect me. Or when I got sloppy and let myself get shot, and they almost got her at the hospital. Vakar." Deeks turned away to stare at the ocean, not seeing anything but his past mistakes. "I left her alone with Talbot, and barely got back in time to see him knock her out and point a gun at her head. I walked right past Sam's buddy with a gun pointed at her head. I stood by and watched while King grabbed her and pointed a gun at her head. I've seen God knows how many guns pointed at her head. And how do I know that I'm not the one who made all that happen?" When he looked back at Callen, there was anguished doubt apparent in his blue eyes. "How do I know I won't get her killed some day?"

"How much do you know about Kensi's last partner?"

Thrown by the unexpected change in topic, Deeks was slow to respond. "Wh—what?"

"Dom. Agent Dominic Vaile. Have you heard much about him?"

Deeks shook his head. "Only what Kensi has said, and Eric a little."

"He was a great kid. Smart. Creative. Intuitive. Almost as good a techie as Eric. He'd had full DOD training, and had finished up with everything NCIS had to offer." Callen moved to stand in front of Deeks, staring directly into his eyes. "And if he was still Kensi's partner, she would have been dead a dozen times over. Kensi's like a little sister to me. She's my family. Sam feels the same way. We have never fully trusted her safety with anyone else in the unit. She's everything you say she is—she does think she's infallible, and she takes too many chances. She's impulsive and yes, she's insane. Which is why Sam and I have watched her back ever since she was put on the team. Right up until you were put on the team with her." Callen waited a moment to let that sink in. "But since you became her partner, we've been able to…relax a little. Take a breather. Let you take over guard duties. You know how we feel about her. And we trust her with you. We trust you to take care of her. Think about that for a moment."

Deeks' mouth opened, but no words emerged. For the first time in Callen's memory, he was completely speechless. So Callen went on.

"We trust you with her life, Deeks." And he held out his hand to Deeks.

There was another long silence, this one more comfortable somehow. The lines of strain in Deeks' face eased, and his shoulders became less tense. "Thanks, man." He reached out and briefly clasped Callen's outstretched hand. "I do understand what that means, and I appreciate the trust you guys are placing in me. I know what she means to you." He sighed heavily, then stepped back. "But if she doesn't trust me to have her back, then I'm still back at square one wondering what the hell I'm doing here."

Callen shook his head. "Look, I don't know what's going on with her right now, but I know she trusts you, Deeks. Something else must be going on, something that…"

Just then both their phones chirped. As Deeks began to fish his out of the waterproof pouch on his wetsuit, Callen already had his out.

"New op. Hetty wants us all back now." He stood there watching as Deeks pulled his board up, and then the two of them began walking back towards the parking lot. "Give her some time, Deeks. Let her come to grips with whatever it is riding her right now. She'll figure it out, and then…"

"And then what? She apologizes? Tells me she didn't mean it?"

"Maybe."

Deeks snorted. "Yeah. Right." At this point, he wasn't sure that would be enough. Maybe nothing would.

They were almost to the parking lot when Callen stopped.

"Deeks?"

"Yeah?"

"Think you can give me a ride?"

* * *

><p>"You're all four going in."<p>

All four agents looked at Hetty in surprise. Callen was the first to respond.

"You're putting us all under cover at Camp Pendleton?"

"Oh no, Mr. Callen." Hetty smiled enigmatically. "The unit was moved a month ago. You're all going to the new base. Marine Corps Base Hawaii."

Deeks couldn't stop himself from looking at Kensi. He knew how this was going to hit her, being there in Hawaii where she'd been searching fruitlessly for answers about her father's death. It was hard to tell in the blue light reflected from the screens and displays in the Ops center, but he thought perhaps her face was a little pale, eyes shocked. He couldn't prevent the streak of concern he felt for her any more than he could have stopped the sun from rising. He supposed he'd always feel that way. He turned back to look at Hetty.

"Hawaii?" Sam sounded gleeful. "Really?"

"Yes. You and Mr. Callen will be undercover on base. You'll be going in as a new drill sergeant—the role should be a natural fit." Sam grinned good-naturedly. "You'll be expected to learn the men, figure out who may be involved. Mr. Callen, you will be one of the floor supervisors in shipping and distribution. We'd like you to investigate how exactly the contraband is being shipped into the continental US."

"What about us?" Kensi's voice sounded shaky, but Deeks kept his eyes trained on Hetty.

"You and Mr. Deeks will be newlyweds moving to the island. You've recently lost a loved one and come into a large sum of money, so you'll be looking at real estate around the base. We believe that locals are being recruited, and a couple of nouveau riche kids with more money than sense should prove too much a temptation for the ring to resist."

Neither Deeks nor Kensi responded. Deeks swallowed hard, and he saw Kensi move restlessly out of the corner of his eye.

"Is there a problem, Miss Blye? Mr. Deeks?"

"No, it's fine. We're…it's good." Kensi's voice was firmer now, but there was still a note of uncertainty there.

Deeks looked up, meeting Hetty's knowing gaze. "It's good," he repeated, knowing it for the lie it was even as he said it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note: Thanks again for the lovely reviews and alerts! Works GREAT as motivation to write, and certainly spurred me today. This chapter got hold of me and wouldn't let go until it was all done**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one, but I do promise to put everyone back when I'm done playing with them. :)  
><strong>

* * *

><p>"Come on, sweetheart." Julie Lawrence took her husband by the hand. "Let's don't keep these nice ladies waiting on us."<p>

"Right behind you, babe." Mike Lawrence picked up both their bags with his free hand and then, with a final smile at the boarding agents, followed his wife to the gangway.

"Aren't they sweet?" sighed one of the boarding agents.

"Newlyweds. Think they'll always act like that?" her more cynical colleague asked. "They'll be arguing and bickering just like the rest of us in 6 months."

"I don't know. Did you see the way she was looking at him? And him…oh, he was a yummy one."

"Whatever. In 6 months she'll be complaining about how he snores and he'll be comparing her unfavorably to his mother." The second agent finished up with the flight records and closed her netbook with a decided snap. "Nobody can maintain that level of lovey-dovey for long. Come on, let's get ready for the next flight."

* * *

><p>On board the plane, Kensi sank down into her assigned seat. They'd spent the better part of the last 48 hours preparing to go under cover, and sleep hadn't been high on anyone's list of priorities. Julie Lawrence was about as deep as a kiddy pool, and her sole contribution to the betterment of mankind was an inclination to join all the latest causes—and by join, she meant throwing money at them. She had also, despite Kensi's best intentions, developed a tendency to giggle. Kensi could already tell that Julie was going to be exhausting. She was hoping to grab a few hours on the flight over to Hawaii, but with things still so tense between her and Deeks she wasn't sure she could relax enough to even grab a catnap.<p>

She watched as Deeks stowed both of their bags in the overhead bin. He settled into the seat next to hers and smiled at her. Reaching out for her hand, he linked his fingers with hers, then lifted her hand and pressed a soft kiss on each knuckle. She knew it was part of the cover, knew it was an act, and even so she couldn't prevent her breath from catching or her hand from trembling. She only hoped Deeks couldn't feel it. That would be a disaster.

_No more disastrous than this op is likely to be if I can't get it together. _She tried to dismiss the thought as she turned to look out the window. The late afternoon sunshine cast a warm glow over the gleaming towers of LAX, and she wished she was leaving under different circumstances. She had a fleeting regret that she hadn't taken Deeks up on his offer to accompany her to Hawaii just after Christmas. That trip would have had a completely different result if she'd ended it by playing on the beach with Deeks instead of holing up in a hotel room after a completely unsuccessful effort to follow the lead Joe had ferreted out for her. If nothing else, Deeks always had the power to pull her out of herself. Get her out of her own headspace. Whether it was poking and picking at her or dragging her out to the beach or just hanging out with her on the sofa while they watched something on tv, he seemed to know just what to do. Without him running interference on her emotional state the last few weeks, she'd found depression settling more heavily on her shoulders than she was used to. Or at least, more heavily than it had been since Deeks came along.

_That's what my life would be like without him. That, all the time._ It was a sobering thought, and one she couldn't dismiss. Without him, life would be an endless cycle of job and home, eat and sleep. Before she'd been assigned Deeks as a partner she'd had the outlet of clubbing and mindless dancing with the occasional one nighter, but she didn't think she could go back to that now. Not now that she knew what the alternative could be. Not after having had Deeks in her life.

She started as Deeks reached across her, whirling away from the window and meeting blue eyes only a few inches from her own. Gaze neutral, he said, "Time to buckle up." He buckled her seat belt for her as she held her breath, then he sat back in his own seat.

The plane began to taxi into position, and Kensi leaned her seat back and closed her eyes before she could do something really stupid, like cry.

* * *

><p>She woke some time later, lying in almost total darkness and unsure exactly where she was. The quiet vibration of the seat beneath her and the slight breeze of canned air tickling her hair brought it all back—the mission, her cover, and of course the terrible fight with Deeks. She started to turn and see where he was when she realized her seat cushion was warm and unusually muscular, and that it wasn't canned air tickling her hair.<p>

Deeks' arm was curved around her, holding her close, and her face was nestled into the crook of his neck. The first class seats Hetty had purchased under half-hearted protest were a whole lot roomier than the coach Kensi was used to, and she realized that the arm between their seats had been folded up completely so that her body could lie fully against Deeks, with one of her legs thrown over his. Her palm was laying flat on his chest, and she could feel the steady thud of his heart and his deep, even breathing. Thankful he was still asleep, she closed her eyes again and nestled closer, enjoying the fragrance of sunshine and man that was uniquely Deeks.

It felt incredibly good, lying there next to him. She felt warm and protected. Safe. Cherished, even. She realized anew how much she missed him. Not just the beer and the donuts, but _him_. She had a family in the team at OSP, and she knew they cared about her just as she cared about them, but the relationship she'd had with Deeks was special. She'd been like a sister to Sam and Callen, and they'd treated her with care and affection, but she'd always been a third to their duo. Dom had been a great kid, but they'd never had time to fully develop a partners bond, and no one else she'd worked with prior had ever even gotten close.

But Deeks had been different. From the first the two of them had thrown sparks off each other. She'd been the cautious one, trying to hold him off, keep him at arms length. Keep him from getting too close. Keep him from getting _inside_. But somehow he'd gone and done it anyway. He'd been so different from anything she'd been used to—more open, more forgiving, less tense and strained. More _fun_. Oh, he had his demons; they all did, and they'd used those demons to their benefit. Callen had turned his past into drive and focus. Sam had turned his into a nurturing nature underneath a beastly physique. Kensi's demons became a competitive spirit and an unwillingness to accept defeat, and Deeks….Deeks had turned his into an easy-going personality and natural friendliness that set people at ease and made him innately likable. And somehow he'd used it all—the sparks and the easy-going and the friendliness—and he'd wormed his way inside her heart. Taken up so large a part of it that she wasn't sure how she'd survive without it. Without him.

"Oh God, Deeks," she whispered, fingers tracing across his chest in a feather light caress. "I wish I could…I don't know what I'm…" She stopped and swallowed hard. "I'm so sorry." She struggled with herself for a moment, both tempted by the desire to cry it all out in the warmth of his embrace and horrified at the prospect of Deeks waking up to a weeping partner with whom he was currently not speaking outside of the case. She stifled the unwanted tears and closed her eyes, then turned her face into his neck a little more. She let his nearness and the comfort of his arm around her back soothe her until she'd relaxed back into sleep once more.

Once he was sure she was asleep again, Deeks took a long hard breath himself.

He hadn't been surprised when she'd fallen asleep almost as soon as the plane had taken off. She'd been running on fumes for days now. Even though they weren't currently spending much time together, he knew her well enough to read the signs. Not eating and not sleeping, not allowing herself to wind down after work. He knew her dad's death was weighing on her, knew that Granger was riding her pretty hard. He wondered how much their estrangement was adding to her burden, and how often she thought of him on those sleepless nights. Or if she did at all.

He'd waved off the flight attendant when she'd approached—every time she'd approached—about a drink or a snack or whatever else the woman wanted to offer. He'd wanted Kensi to get as much sleep as possible. And he hadn't moved when her head had slid across the seat and onto his shoulder, almost as if she'd been seeking him. He'd taken the opportunity to study her face, noting the dark circles under her eyes and the lines of strain etched about her mouth. She needed rest and relaxation, sun and surf. And while they were going to be spending time in paradise, it wasn't likely she'd get time for either in the middle of a case. His lips tightened, and he told himself not to worry. She wasn't his problem any more.

But it became harder for him not to think about her as the flight progressed. Slowly but surely she kept encroaching onto his territory. First her head laying on his shoulder, then she nestled closer and snuggled into his neck. One hand trailed over onto his chest, the other tucked behind his arm. He'd finally had to finesse the shared arm between their seats up and behind them because he was afraid it was digging into her belly, and her leg had ended up entwined around one of his. At that point he'd given up and asked the flight attendant for a blanket, then thrown it over the two of them and turned out their light. And if his arm had stolen around her and pulled her even closer, he told himself it was to anchor her and keep her from flailing all over him even as he'd known deep down there was more to it than that.

He should have known sleep would be impossible. He'd given up after a few minutes, knowing there was no way he'd be able to close his eyes and nod off with Kensi snuggled up against him, not after everything that had happened in the past weeks. His free hand covered hers laying on his chest, and he'd used his other to begin stroking her hair away from her face, tenderly smoothing it down her back. She'd murmured something incoherent and inched even closer. He told himself it was just to keep her from waking up and filling their space with the awkwardness and tension that developed whenever the two of them were alone, but deep down he acknowledged the truth. He missed his partner, missed the special bond between them. Missed what they'd had. Or what he'd thought they had. His mouth tightened and his hands stilled as he reminded himself exactly how it had all ended. Kensi, storming into the gym. Hitting the bag. _Hitting him. _And then the stream of brutal nastiness that had tumbled out of her mouth. Callen's words had gone a long way toward making Deeks realize that he wasn't the problem, but it hadn't alleviated his anger towards Kensi at all.

Almost as if she sensed something, Kensi began to move restlessly, and he forced himself to lay there in the dark, breathing slow and even and eyes closed. He knew exactly when she woke up, knew just how long it took her to understand where she was and who was holding her. But she didn't react as he expected. She didn't pull away or push him away. Instead, as he lay there, he felt the almost imperceptible flutter of her fingers stroking his chest. As fragile and as light as a butterfly's wings, the tiny caress was unutterably sweet, coming as it did in the dark of the night after a long two week's distance. Then she began to speak, her voice whisper-soft and barely audible.

"Oh God, Deeks." He had to force himself to breathe normally, force himself not to react to the whispered words. "I wish I could…I don't know what I'm…" She stopped and swallowed hard. "I'm so sorry."

And that was that. She nestled back into his neck, her fingers now grasping his shirt as if she could hold him there in place. It took a little longer this time, but eventually she fell asleep once more. He pulled the blanket up over her shoulders, his own eyes staring blindly into the darkness.

But for the first time in two long weeks, he felt a faint stirring of hope that maybe this whole ugly mess could be resolved.

And maybe, just maybe, he'd get his partner back.

* * *

><p>Kensi woke at first light, feeling more rested than she'd felt in days. She was still lying curled into Deeks, and she took a brief moment to enjoy the sensation. But others were stirring in the plane, and she didn't want him to wake and find her draped all over him. She withdrew her hand, pulled her leg gently over his, and then pushed herself upright slowly. He lay there after she'd moved away, and she took the opportunity to study his features. He looked relaxed in sleep, and the disorder of his blonde curls made him appear curiously boyish. She wanted to reach over and touch him, longed to gently move a stray lock of hair back in place or lay her hand against that sculpted, scruffy jaw. But she couldn't. So instead she turned and righted herself in her seat, then opened the window shade. The sunlight must have awakened Deeks, and she felt him moving his own seat upright.<p>

The flight attendant began pushing the breakfast cart up the narrow aisle, and Kensi settled back into her role. "Good morning, sweetie" she trilled, expecting Deeks to respond as Mike—affable, slightly dim, good-natured and naïve. Instead, Deeks met her gaze squarely.

"Good morning, sunshine," he said, a hint of a smile playing about his lips and a warm gleam in his eyes.

The flight attendant stopped next to Deeks before she had a chance to formulate a response, which was a good thing given her total inability to process what he'd said. Had that been Mike or Deeks talking? It had sounded like Deeks, and "Sunshine" was certainly one of Deeks' morning nicknames for her. Had he meant it, or was it just an early morning slip of the tongue? She sat still, doubtful and confused and hopeful all at the same time.

Deeks either sensed her bewilderment or thought Mike would take care of Julie, because a steaming, fragrant croissant and a small dish of fruit suddenly appeared on her tray table. Over normal morning pleasantries, they both slipped back in character, and Kensi tried to convince herself she must have imagined that Deeks had done or said anything unusual.

But deep down inside no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't keep a flicker of hope from springing into life.

Maybe somehow, some way, she might get her partner back.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note: Sorry for the delay on this one, folks. I know where I'm going, but I'm having a hard time getting Deeks and Kensi to go there. They keep trying to make up before I'm quite ready for it. They're stubborn like that.**

**On the days that I struggled the most, I went back and read reviews, and it really kept me going. SO MUCH APPRECIATION AND LOVE for them!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one, and I promise to put them all back when I'm done playing with them. Except maybe Deeks...  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Sam turned at the sound of a vehicle approaching. His eyes narrowed briefly, then smoothed out as he laughed out loud. He watched as Callen approached him.<p>

"A motorcycle?" He smirked at his partner. "Since when do you drive a motorcycle?"

"I don't know why people are so surprised." Callen sounded half disgruntled. "Hetty made me write up a proposal before she'd okay it, and Nell and Eric acted like I'd requested a tanker truck. Is it really so out of character for me to drive a bike?"

"Yes," said Sam bluntly. "We're used to seeing you in sleek little luxury cars. You have to admit that this is a little out of the ordinary for Mr. My Car is Worth More than a Small House."

"Well it's right in line with what Paul Nielsen would drive," said Callen. "And that's what matters right now. " He stood for a moment, looking around. They were on top of a small bluff overlooking the base. The lush greenery surrounding them was waving wildly in the breeze, hiding them from view from anyone further away than 5 or 10 feet down. "Nice location."

"I thought so." Sam took a deep breath, enjoying the exhaust-free air. He thought he might have time to completely clean the LA smog out of his lungs before they went back home. "Can't be seen or heard. Far enough away that we won't run into anyone on base."

"Then this should work as a good meeting spot. We'll need to let Kensi and Deeks know." He tapped his earwig. "Eric, you there?"

"Here, ready, and waiting," supplied Eric, sounding as if he were in the next room rather than 2500 miles away.

"Can you map the coordinates of our current location, then forward them on to Kensi and Deeks? Tell them this will be location alpha."

"On it."

Callen turned to Sam. "Any luck so far?"

"A couple of likely prospects." Sam pulled out his phone, then began pulling up pictures. "PFC Jackson Cain. Farm boy out of North Carolina who's been flashin' some large lately."

"Maybe he's just frugal? Could have been saving up for a rainy day."

"Serious large. He bought a jetski, and is paying rental on it at Crush, which is the…"

"Most expensive extreme sports club on the island." Callen shrugged as Sam looked at him quizzically, brows raised. "What? I get around."

"Driving a bike, extreme sports." Sam took a step back, shaking his head. "I don't even know who you are any more."

"Introductions will have to wait. Who else?"

Sam raised his phone once more. "Lieutenant David Castille. He got into some kind of trouble at Pendleton. Records are sealed, but Eric's working on it. Keeps to himself, mostly, but he does run sometimes with a couple of shady locals. Including his brother, who just happens to be a realtor."

Callen's gaze sharpened. "Realtor?"

"Yeah." Sam tilted his head. "Specializes in high end real estate in and around the base."

"Sounds like a good entry point for Deeks and Kensi." Callen pulled out his own phone and dialed. "Kensi, Sam is sending you information on a Lieutenant David Castille. His brother sells high end real estate. See if you can track him down; this could be your guy." After shutting his phone off, he turned to look out at the horizon once more. "Think they're okay now?"

"They're better," Sam replied slowly. "I don't think everything's peachy keen in paradise, but definitely better."

"Let's hope you're right," said Callen. "I don't much want to find out what happens if the two of them really do implode." He paused for a long moment, thinking, then continued. "You think anything like that could happen to us?"

"Not unless there's something you're not telling me," Sam said drily. "They've got the hots for each other. And G, you know I love you like a brother, but aside from that I don't think…"

"Okay, okay," said Callen, grinning good-naturedly. "Let's just…sit here and enjoy the view."

And for the next few minutes, that's exactly what the two partners did.

* * *

><p>Kensi turned her phone off, then tucked it in her back pocket. She was glad to have a plan of action, glad to be given a direction in the ongoing investigation. She'd always been more action than words, and the forced inactivity of their first few days in Hawaii was about to drive her seriously nuts. She needed to be out there, investigating. Digging up clues, looking at the crime scene, questioning witnesses. Kicking in doors and chasing down suspects. This…this hanging around doing nothing was not her style.<p>

Okay, that wasn't exactly true. It wasn't always her thing, but there were times…oh there had been times when it was exactly her thing. She'd gotten used to a solitary lifestyle before him, grown accustomed to quiet and peace and just being still or clubs and dancing and the occasional frenzied anonymous sex. But that was before Deeks, before she'd realized the joys of sharing cartons of take out Chinese and tubs of chicken, before she'd experienced a real belly laugh as her fingers had tangled with his over a bag of popcorn or he'd pulled her feet into his lap to tickle them mercilessly. She hadn't understood that peace could come just as easily while slouching on the couch with her partner draped across the cushions next to her as it did while she relaxed there alone. And she couldn't have known that the sense of contentment she got sitting in silence with her shoulder touching his would rival any she'd known in her life before him.

Somehow he wasn't just her partner any more. Somehow he wasn't the guy she worked with or the guy she went with doors with or even the guy who had her back. Somehow he'd become….necessary. Not as necessary as air or water perhaps. She could survive without him if she had to. But she didn't want to, didn't want to have to find out what life was like without trips to the beach and hanging out on the couch and sharing takeout. It wouldn't kill her to live without him, but it would certainly take a lot of the spark out of living. Losing him would be like giving up donuts. She smiled bitterly. Deeks had been right when she'd said she had a jones for sweets. What she hadn't realized at the time was that her jones for Deeks himself would grow to consume so much of her very being. Deeks had become her emotional donut.

She let herself plop down on the overstuffed sofa set in the sitting room of their suite, curling her legs up underneath her. Would she change anything if she could? Go back and undo the damage? Keep Deeks from inserting himself so thoroughly into her life? She let her eyes wander about the suite, the set of rooms she and Deeks had occupied together in the days since their arrival in Hawaii. He'd inserted himself into the rooms, too, leaving odds and ends that he'd picked up laying around. A large conch shell lay beside the crystal vase with the cut flower arrangement on the coffee table, and his surfing board was propped on the wall behind the entertainment center. Pillows were tumbled on one side of the sofa where he'd been laying after lunch that afternoon, and there were dog-eared, tattered paperbacks scattered here and there in every room. But the effect was somehow charming. Lived in and comfortable instead of colorless and stark. Which was exactly the effect Deeks had had on her. He'd brought a little sparkle that had been missing, introduced color and sound where there had been none. And no, she wouldn't go back and trade that in even if she could.

_What am I going to do if I lose him? How do I live without color and sound now? How do I give up donuts?_

Shaking the thought away, she got to her feet. She needed to focus on the things she _could_ fix, not on what was perhaps irreparable. She pulled her phone out once more, then dialed Eric. Getting him focused on finding their suspect realtor would give them a starting point, something she desperately needed right now. After finishing up her call, she went to get dressed for the beach.

Time to put the next part of the plan into action.

* * *

><p>"Come <em>on<em>, Mike! Go long!"

Obligingly Deeks took off running through the sand, hands outstretched to catch the ball that Tanner, the ten-year-old son of the couple staying in the hotel suite next to theirs, threw down the beach. He'd gladly accepted the friendship of a fourth grader, finding it both nonthreatening and an easy way to blow off steam. Tanner was always up for a game of football or a splash fight or a surfing lesson, and given the strain in his living quarters Deeks found it relaxing to be outdoors in the sunshine with someone who didn't matter to the case.

Just then, a flash of pink caught his eye, and he almost stumbled over his own feet. The ball fell unheeded past his frozen hands and into the sand.

"Sweetie! Sweetie?"

Kensi came to a halt in front of Deeks, looking at him in concern. And he couldn't blame her, not really. He knew he was gaping at her, knew he should say something. But even though he'd seen her in a different bikini every day, it was getting harder and harder to hide his reaction to that tight, tanned, incredibly hot body. Today's suit was actually fairly modest so far as bikinis went, but it was a pastel pink color with tiny pale blue and yellow polka dots. It reminded him of cotton candy, or sherbet maybe, and it brought all sorts of delicious wicked wants to the forefront of his suddenly short-circuited mind. _Focus. Lock it down. _He took a single deep, hard breath, then forced himself to relax a little, easing into Mike's slightly vacuous expression.

"Did you need me, babe?"

She reached out and took one of his hands, clasping it in both of hers and then bringing it up to her chest. His fingers burned where they rested against her sternum, so close to…

"Well I was just thinking." She smiled up at him, eyes warm and inviting. "We've been so happy here, haven't we? And it's beautiful here all the time, not like yucky old California."

He cocked his head, lips quirked. "Well it's pretty there too, most of the time, so..."

"Oh, it rains a lot. And there are hurricanes and stuff."

"Those happen here too."

She pouted a little, lower lip puckering in distress. "Mike. I'm being serious."

"I'm sorry, pumpkin." He raised her hands and kissed them, first one then the other. "What is it?"

Her expression changed instantly, and her lips curved into a dazzlingly wide smile. "Why don't we move here?"

"Move here?" Deeks kept his voice calm and even, knowing that Mike would indulge Julie in almost anything she wanted. "Why exactly do you want to move here?"

"Because." He was dimly aware that Tanner had walked behind him to pick up the ball. He smiled at the boy, waving with his free hand as the fourth grader made his way back to his family, but his attention was focused on Kensi. "I love it here." She began to step backwards, tugging on his hand to tow him along. He had the fleeting thought that, strain and tension between them notwithstanding, he would have followed her into an apocalypse wearing that bikini. "Come on, let's go."

Willingly he let himself be pulled along the beach. She turned and began walking forward, and, glad for their cover as newlyweds, he let himself ogle his partner's very delectable backside all the way back to their suite.

Once inside the suite, she dropped his hand and shut the blinds. She felt relatively safe that she could do so without rousing suspicion. Newlyweds were expected to want to spend time alone and in private.

"Sam's got us a lead. One of the guys on the base has a brother who sells high end real estate, and he wants us to check it out."

"Okay," said Deeks, dropping Mike's affable, slightly goofy expression. "What's the name?"

"The marine's name is Castille, so I presume the brother's is the same. Eric is trying to locate him for us."

As if on cue, both of their phones chirped. Kensi picked hers up off the tiny bar and checked the message. "Looks like he's already found him. Ricky Castille, of Anela Associates Realty. It's in the same strip mall as the restaurant where we had supper last night."

"I'll go grab a shower," said Deeks. "We can be there in half an hour."

At his words, he watched Kensi's face fall, her shoulders drooping and breath exhaling tiredly. He forced himself to turn and exit the room quickly, heading to grab clean clothes from his closet before he showered. He understood why she was tired. Hell, he was tired too. This…this dance they were doing was exhausting. It went against his nature not to resolve things with her. He was used to making the first move, used to having to poke or prod her into talking about it. He'd never known anyone as reticent as she was. He suspected that, compared to her, Callen himself was a veritable font of personal information, at least with Sam. But Sam and Callen had had years to work the kinks out of their partnership. After hearing that single heart-felt apology on the plane, Deeks wanted those same years to work things out with Kensi. He knew she was truly sorry, and that was all it took for him. But if they were going to work things out this time, there had to be some give and take. And it was her turn to give.

Not that he wasn't maybe perhaps doing the _tiniest_ bit of prodding. Or maybe it was reminding.

Fresh out of the shower and dressed in a clean print shirt and board shorts, he re-entered the living room.

"Okay, Princess, you ready?" Grinning at her, keeping her off balance, he held the door open and then followed her out the door.

* * *

><p>True to his word, it was just over a half hour later when the jaunty little red convertible pulled up in front of Alana Associates. Set in the middle of a tony little strip mall, the exterior was all glass and chrome and screamed money. Deeks got out and then walked around to open the door for Kensi.<p>

"Oh, this place looks perfect," she said breathlessly as they walked up to the door.

"It does indeed." Her hand froze on the door as he continued. "It looks classy. Like you, Princess."

Her hand dropped, and she looked down, pausing for a long moment. Then she turned to look up at him, and her voice was unsteady when she spoke. "Look, Deeks, I…"

Before she could continue, the door opened in front of them. A heavy set man dressed in a perfectly tailored double-breasted suit stood there, smiling at them.

"Hi, I'm Ricky Castille. Can I help you with something?"

"Yes, Mr. Castille, you can." Her voice was all Julie again, breathless and sexy, but Deeks could have cursed Castille for interrupting them before he'd heard what Kensi was going to say. "I'm Julie Lawrence, and this is my husband Mike. We want to buy a house."

"Now that's not completely true," said Deeks, smiling fondly down at her. "She gets an idea in her head. First it was an apartment in New York, then a little cabin in Colorado, then a house in Malibu and another in La Jolla. She decides she needs a new house the way some women decide on new shoes."

"And you buy them for me," she said, reaching up to kiss him softly on one cheek. "And you buy me whatever shoes I want too, for that matter."

Deeks turned to look at Castille. "Well, you have to keep 'em happy, right?"

"Of course you do," Castille said, voice eager. "Why don't you step back to my desk, and we'll talk about what exactly you want."

"Doesn't matter what I want," Deeks said, lifting Kensi's hand and kissing it. "Just find out what she wants, and we'll see what happens."

It didn't take long to establish what Julie wanted. She wanted everything. Every luxury, every upgrade, every amenity available. With a list of appropriate properties, the three of them exited the office and headed toward Castille's vehicle, a Lincoln Navigator parked in the corner of the parking lot. As they were walking that way, a car suddenly pulled up in front of them. The man that got out was good-looking, with thick brown hair that might have been wavy if it'd been longer and muscular arms decorated with tattoos. He was smiling broadly as he headed straight for…

"Kensi? Is that you?"

Deeks froze in disbelief, and beside them he heard Castille repeat, "Kensi?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note: So yeah, this chapter was a whole lot easier. Writer's block is NO fun, so I hope it's gone for good.**

**Thanks once more for all the lovely reviews and alerts and faves! I really do think it was having them pop up like they did that kept me working through the block last chapter. SO MUCH LOVE to you all! :)**

**Disclaimer: Somehow I still don't own anyone or anything. I do promise to return them all once I'm done playing. Except Deeks. And maybe McGarrett. I had NO idea he was so nummy.  
><strong>

* * *

><p>"Kensi? Is that you?"<p>

Kensi looked up in disbelief. McGarrett. She'd completely forgotten to notify him and Joe that she was back on the island. More importantly, she'd forgotten to notify them that she was under cover. _Dammit_. Her mind had been so full of Deeks and the fight and trying to keep things from going south on a personal level that she'd actually forgotten to take care of the op. She heard Castille repeat, "Kensi?" softly on the other side of Deeks, and she forced herself to stare at McGarrett in confusion.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not…did you say Kensi?"

McGarrett stopped as well, staring at her with eyes narrowed.

"Well, what a strange name. I'm afraid you've got the wrong gal. My name is _**Ju-lie**_." She said the name slowly and loudly, as if she was speaking to someone with a hearing problem. Her eyes were carefully neutral as she met McGarrett's gaze, and his cleared a little.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I see now you aren't her at all. You just look a lot like…like a girl I used to know, many years ago." He paused, allowed himself a small smile. "We used to meet at Lanikai Beach late at night, and walk in the moonlight. Seeing you really takes me back." He nodded his head briefly. "My apologies, ma'am. No offense intended."

"None taken." Deeks replied before Kensi could. McGarrett met his eyes for the first time with what might have been a hint of warning. Deeks kept his own expression affable. The cover, the success of the case, and depending on the outcome his and Kensi's safety depended on it. But he couldn't stop himself from drawing Kensi's hand into his, twining his fingers through hers, leaning a little closer to her.

And oh, he hoped he got a chance to ask this yokel a few things later.

The yokel in question turned and walked back to his car. Deeks turned to Kensi. "Weird, huh? Still want to go look at houses?"

Affecting Julie's carefree smile, Kensi was practically bubbling. "Of course I do! If we hurry, we might could find the right one today."

Castille was just as eager. "Then shall we…?" He held a hand out, indicating his car.

"We shall." Still holding Kensi's hand, Deeks strolled after Castille.

* * *

><p>Several hours later, Deeks had to give Castille points for patience, if nothing else. He'd shown them no fewer than ten different properties over the course of the afternoon, and Julie had found something wrong with every one of them. Kensi, whose patience he suspected was wearing more thin than Castille's, had giggled and simpered and nitpicked all day, but by the final property her creativity had given out, and all she could offer was that it didn't <em>feel<em> right. When pressed by Castille to clarify exactly what made it not "feel right", she'd been vague and dithery and muttered about misplaced walls and ceramic floor tiles going the wrong direction. After all three of them had looked down at the absolutely gorgeous marquetry floor with its design of carefully placed _wooden_ diamonds and squares, she'd thrown her hand over Deeks' arm and declared herself positively exhausted. Castille, smile unchanged, had made an appointment with them for the following afternoon, and then he'd taken them back to their car.

Now they were sitting out on the lanai at the hotel's restaurant. Their table was a little away from the others, and they could have talked with each other outside the case if they'd wanted. But neither of them broached any personal topics, instead sticking to Mike and Julie's regular pleasantries and small talk. They also kept up appearances, touching each other casually and not so casually as the newlyweds they were supposed to be. Deeks picked up her hand and held it, stroking the inside of her wrist and kissing her hand. Mike apparently had a thing for that, Kensi thought in passing, aware of each tiny pinprick of sensation everywhere he touched her. Her wrist, the top of her hand, her bare shoulder as he traced down her arm with one finger. She wanted to pick up the conversation where they'd left off this morning, but this…this _touching_ was distracting to her, and she couldn't gather her thoughts enough to know what exactly she wanted or needed to say. She was aware that the clock seemed to be crawling tonight, and she was both incredibly happy to be here with him, like this, and miserable at the lack of any real communication between them.

Deeks was having a great time. He could tell just exactly how off-balance she was, her eyes sometimes skittering around the beach, trying not to look at him. Sometimes she stared at him, not quite meeting his eyes but unable to look completely away. And sometimes, after a particularly soft caress or stroke, she couldn't keep her gaze from meeting his, eyes half-lidded and warm with a glint of something he hadn't seen before. He knew it was dangerous, playing with her like this. Knew it could blow up in his face. She was a professional and her skills at playing a role were unmatched in any partner he'd ever had, but he also knew that no one ever pushed her like he did. Like he was tonight. They were in the middle of an op, and anything could happen. But his instincts about her were pretty spot on, so he trusted his gut and clasped her hand in both of his, thumb making a wide sweep over the top of her hand before lifting it to place a warm, soft kiss in her palm. She jolted a little, so he did it again.

No, no one else ever pushed Kensi the way he did, which was part of the reason she was so good at continually shoring up her defenses and stuffing all her feelings down so deep that she was sometimes all but emotionless. Callen was another cold-blooded bastard and he was never going to even try, and Sam just wanted everyone to be happy, and they were the only two who'd ever stood a chance at digging her out from behind those walls. But sometime over the last few days, Deeks had decided that Ms. Kensi Blye was done hiding everything she felt from _him_, if nothing else, and the two of them were going to have a honest-to-God discussion about things in the not too distant future. One where they each talked about their feelings and the other listened without interrupting. His lips tightened briefly as he realized the last time they'd tried this it had actually been Kensi who'd opened the door the day she thought he'd been fired. For someone so skittish about talking about her feelings, having it slammed shut in her face had to have been excruciating, and she'd retreated so far behind her walls since then that it might take dynamite to blast her out.

Well fine. He was feeling pretty explosive right now.

"Sweetie," she said softly, interrupting his thoughts, "I'm feeling a little tired right now, and the mahi mahi isn't really agreeing with me. I think I'm going to go back to the room, maybe take a bubble bath."

"Okay, I'll go with you, and we can.."

"No, no, you stay here and finish." Her voice was firm, and his eyes narrowed as he watched her stand and gather her clutch, pulling the patterned silk pashmina tighter around her arms. "I don't want to ruin both our meals. I'll see you when you get back to the room."

He thought he saw a calculating glint in her eye right before she leaned down and kissed him, lips meeting his in much more than the casual kisses they'd exchanged in public before. The brief touch of her tongue across his closed lips sent a shock wave through him, and he was still recovering from it when he opened his eyes to discover she had already slipped out of sight.

_Nice. Very nice move, Kens. _He smiled in genuine appreciate as he pulled out his phone and hit Eric's number. _But if you think that's going to stop me…_

"Eric," he said, standing and motioning their server over so he could sign the ticket. "I'm going to need you to activate Kensi's GPS. I have a feeling it's about to be on the move."

* * *

><p>Kensi swallowed a hard knot of guilt and regret at having to fool Deeks. She had no hope that he'd still be gone when she returned, and she wasn't sure he'd buy her planned excuse—that she'd gone for a solitary walk on the beach. But there were some things a girl had to do on her own, and this was one of them. She'd deal with the consequences later.<p>

She waited at the front desk for the shuttle to pick her up. Climbing into the van, she gave the driver a single direction.

"Lanikai Beach, please."

When Kensi arrived McGarrett was waiting right by the abandoned boat hull where they'd often met on her previous trips to the island. Originally Joe had been there as well, and she'd used the two men as a sounding board, bouncing ideas and leads off them and relying on their expert opinion and knowledge about island life to help point her in the right direction. But Joe's appearances had tapered off, and she and McGarrett had met without him more often than not. The two of them had a lot in common, although the murder of McGarrett's father hadn't affected him quite the same way as Kensi's had impacted her life. Even so, having that common bond had caused them to become close, and they each valued the other's friendship.

He smiled as she approached, and the two of them hugged in greeting. "So, _Ju-lie_. Was there something you forgot to mention in your last phone call?"

"I'm sorry, Steve. This op just came up." The two of them sat on the same faded bench seat they'd always used, and she looked out at the water. "I only found out about forty-eight hours before we flew here, and we used the entire time working on our covers."

"And after you got here? Something else on your mind, maybe?" he prodded gently.

"Well it's not exactly deep cover, but it is twenty-four hour so…"

"I'm not talking about the op." At her look of confusion, he smiled at her. "That was Deeks, right?" He'd heard quite a bit about her partner, and more that she hadn't said. Enough so that he'd drawn his own conclusions about the two of them. Seeing the way the other man had responded only reinforced that. She was silent so he went on. "I'm not sure that was all cover. He seemed pretty territorial."

"He's not." She sighed, looked down. "Things aren't exactly good between us right now."

He cocked his head. "Good or not, I speak guy talk, and I'm telling you the guy was all over you."

"You think?" She sounded doubtful and hopeful at the same time, and he huffed out a quick breath of laughter.

"Same old Kensi." He nudged her with his shoulder. "You should be talking to him about this."

"I don't think I can."

"Sure you can. Aren't you the same person who barges in where angels fear to tread? Didn't we start all this with you investigating a case that was closed a long time ago? And didn't you continue investigating despite being warned off by more than one person?"

"Yes, but..."

"So you can do all that, but you can't have a simple conversation with your partner?"

"It's not a simple conversation. Not after everything else that's happened." She didn't elaborate, and he didn't ask. "I just don't know what to do."

"Well then…let's talk about what you can do. How are things going with your father's case?"

They talked for a few more minutes about their respective cases and the lack of any progress thereof, and then Kensi stood to leave. "Thanks, Steve, for not blowing my cover earlier."

"No problem. I'm glad to see you no matter what the circumstances." He reached out and pulled her into a close hug, holding her tight. He leaned down, spoke close to her ear. "And about that thing with your partner…my money's on you."

She patted his back one last time, then pulled back to smile up into his eyes. "Thanks, McGarrett."

From his vantage point in the shadows at the far edge of the beach, Deeks watched as she turned and began making her way back up the beach. He felt a slow burn start somewhere just north of his gut. _So this is where she had to be? Some bubble bath._ With a muttered curse he turned and hurried back to the car, wanting to get back to the hotel room before she returned.

* * *

><p>Kensi slid her keycard through the lock, then opened the door and slipped inside, shutting it quietly behind her. It was close to midnight now. She'd taken that walk on the beach, so technically she wouldn't be lying should she have to use that as an excuse. But the lights were off and the suite was silent, so she hoped Deeks had already gone to bed.<p>

A hope that was dashed when the light flipped on suddenly, startling her.

"Hi, honey. You're home." Deeks' voice was flat, with an edge of anger in it. Kensi's heart sank.

"Yeah." She slowly entered the room, threw her clutch on the coffee table then sank onto the couch. "Yeah, I'm back. Sorry about that."

"Feeling better? You took off in a hurry." His eyes never left her face, and she had a feeling he could see right through her. Through the lies she was about to tell.

"I do. I went for a walk on the beach, sort of cleared my head."

There was a long silence then. He cocked his head at her. "So you've just been…walking on the beach this whole time?"

She nodded her head.

"Okay." He got up to leave, and she had the terrible feeling that he was disappointed and angry all at the same time. Which made sense, since she felt the same way about her own behavior. As she watched him walking away, she knew she couldn't do this. Couldn't do this to him, not right now. Couldn't do this to _them_. To their thing.

"Deeks, wait." He stopped at the doorway but didn't turn to face her. "That's…that's not exactly true. I went and met someone."

"Yeah?" He still didn't turn to face her, and she made herself get up and approach him.

"Yeah. That guy from this afternoon. The guy in the parking lot who knew me? His name's McGarrett, and he works for law enforcement here on the island."

Deeks finally turned to look at her, expression carefully blank. He'd never considered the possibility that there was anything pulling her to Hawaii except her father's murder. Never considered that there might be another guy involved. And judging by the body language he'd seen on the beach, a guy she was close to. A guy she cared about, and one who cared about her.

"So this was, what, a little officer-to-officer hook-up? Or you've just gone through all the guys in California and had to move on to greener pastures?" He'd meant to keep his tone light, joking even, but she recoiled as if he'd slapped her.

"What? No, Deeks. God, no. It was just… He's a friend. He's been helping me with my father's case. That's all, I swear it."

"If he's just a friend, why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know." Her voice was low, unhappy. She looked down at the ground. "It's been…weird, and things are…" She gestured between them "I don't know. I didn't want to…" Her voice cracked, and she made another vague movement with her hand and then hurried out of the room.

Deeks turned to watch her flee, feeling her unhappiness like it was his own. And in many ways, it was. He raised a hand to his chest, rubbed hard. Her misery was almost tangible, and it made something hurt deep inside. He thought maybe perhaps it was his heart.

He went back into the living room and flopped down on the sofa. Maybe it was time to let things cool down a little. Take some of the heat off her, let her relax a little. _Let her retreat. Reinforce those walls. Make it even harder to get through. _He shook his head. That wasn't the answer. He knew it wasn't, and his gut said it wasn't.

_Or maybe_….he sat back, thinking. If letting things cool down wasn't the answer, then maybe...just maybe…_._

_Maybe it's actually time to turn the heat up._

With a wicked grin, Deeks got up and headed towards the front door. He had a lot to do before morning.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Sorry for the delay-real life intrudes, and although I'd love to spend all day writing lovely Densi fics, no one will pay me for it, more's the pity.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one, but I do plan to return everyone once I finish playing with them.**

* * *

><p>Deeks surveyed the living room, well pleased with his preparations. It had taken some doing, but he'd managed to find everything he'd needed. And if he'd had to fight amusement and a little bit of self-derision at finding himself shopping at an all-night Walmart in freakin' Hawaii, then he justified it by reminding himself the end results would be worth any price or, apparently, any indignity.<p>

He propped the two bags next to each other on the couch, then checked the time. It was still several hours until morning, but he wanted to make sure he was awake before Kensi. So he set an early alarm on his phone and then set it to vibrate, planning to tuck it under his pillow so it wouldn't wake her up. But after making his way through the darkened hallway to the bedroom, he realized he was going to have to come up with a new plan.

Kensi had left the light on in the bathroom for him with the door pulled almost shut—dark enough for her to sleep but enough light that he could get around. They'd had to sleep in the same bed in order to keep up appearances; housekeeping would gossip if one of a pair of newlyweds was making use of the couch at night. As he rounded the bed, he thought at first that Kensi had decided to take a chance on the gossip and had relegated him to the couch. Instead of staying on the very edge of her side of the bed as she'd done since they'd arrived, she was almost dead center, and his pillow was nowhere in sight. But he smiled a little as he realized she was actually curled around it, hugging it to her chest with both knees drawn up. Her hair was mostly tumbled over her face, but he could see tear tracks still visible on her cheeks through the silken strands. He realized she must have cried herself to sleep, and his smile faded as he sat on the edge of the bed. He carefully began smoothing her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her shoulder so he could see her better. She was so beautiful it took his breath sometimes, and he found himself studying her features now. Unguarded in sleep, she seemed younger, softer, more vulnerable. He longed to wipe the tracks of those tears away, but he knew it would wake her up. And if he woke her up now, he'd be forced to do something to ease her pain and soothe those tears away for good.

And if he did that now—if he caved now, if he let all this slide because he couldn't stand to see her suffering, then he'd be shortchanging himself and their relationship. He'd be sacrificing the potential, the future they might have. And that was something he was no longer willing to contemplate. His future—_their_ future—was now far too important for that. This was an opportunity he couldn't pass up, not if wanted something real, something _more_ with his partner.

He leaned over and placed a baby-soft kiss on the edge of her hairline, then went to grab one of the extra pillows from the sofa. Laying it down on the side of the bed where his pillow normally lay, he settled himself down for the remainder of the night. He nestled his head into the cushion, adjusting it until he could watch Kensi while she slept. It was a poor substitute for spending time with her awake, but there was a certain sweetness to being able to look his fill, especially after the long drought of contact following their fight. It was some time before he let his eyes close in sleep.

* * *

><p>Kensi swiped at her nose, then buried her face deeper in the pillow. But the tickle on her skin persisted.<p>

"Mmmph," she grunted, then turned to face the other direction. When the tickle moved to her newly exposed ear, she swatted at her ear hard enough to sting, and her eyes popped open. Blue eyes were looking directly into her own, and Deeks looked both awake and amused.

"Good morning, Sunshine."

She almost smiled back, responding instinctively to the warmth and affection in his voice and gaze. But then she remembered. Remembered the strain she'd caused over the last few weeks, remembered the hurt he'd inflicted with his pointed words last night. Remembered him leaving their suite and being gone for hours, and her crying herself to sleep in his absence. She searched his face, looking for the anger and scorn from the previous night, but his gaze was carefully blank. Although there was an air of suppressed excited about him that had her wondering. _He's up to something._

"Good morning," she said softly, pushing herself into a sitting position.

"Come on," he said, clasping her hand. "We've got places to be." He began tugging her toward the edge of the bed, and she was forced to crawl forward. "People to see. Stuff to do."

"Hey…slow down." Still sleep-befuddled, she began pulling back so she could work her legs around to the edge of the bed. He was impatient, eyes gleaming with something she couldn't name, and he wouldn't release her hand. She finally managed to get completely upright, and she tugged her hand free from his grasp. "Did Callen get a lead?"

"You could say that." He turned her around so that she was facing the bathroom, then nudged her forward. "Get ready. Train's pulling out of the station in fifteen minutes."

"Fifteen minutes?" Her voice rose. "I can't get ready in fifteen minutes!"

"Not if you don't get started. Now if you'll just move forward and try and get a brush through that horse's mane you refer to as hair, we could be on our way before lunch time."

She pulled back then, turned with her eyes narrowed at him. "Horse's mane?"

"Fifteen minutes," he repeated, grinning openly now, then he made a swift and probably wise exit.

It was closer to forty-five minutes by the time Kensi left the bedroom, dressed in a casual strapless summer romper with still-damp hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Deeks eyed her critically, and she stopped near the sofa and put her hands on her hips.

"What?" she said defensively.

"Nothing. I'm just not sure you're going to be…comfortable." He crossed his arms and cocked his head to one side. "Where we're going, I mean."

"Where _are_ we going?" She crossed her arms too, unconsciously mimicking his pose. "What exactly is this lead?"

"Okay, time to go." He turned and grabbed both bags. "I've got your go bag all ready. I'll just go put both of them in the car." And before she could say another word, he was out the front door.

"Go bag? Why do I need a go bag? Deeks?" She started after him, unaware that it was the first time she'd addressed him by name since their fight. "Deeks!"

* * *

><p>It took a few miles, but Kensi finally relaxed back into the comfy leather passenger seat, closing her eyes and letting the wind tickle her face into half a smile. "Mmmm," she sighed in pleasure, missing Deeks' quick look in her direction, and the equally quick wince that followed. "You never did tell me where we were going."<p>

"And I'm not going to." He looked over at her, watching as she rolled her shoulders, then her neck, before laying her head back on the seat. He thought this was the most relaxed he'd seen her since they'd arrived in Hawaii. _Perfect_.

"Come on, Deeks." There was no ire in her tone, not even a hint of annoyance. "You're going to have to share with the rest of the class sometime. We can't follow a lead if one of us doesn't know…."

"No lead." He grinned, aware that she was watching him now. "Nothing to do with the case."

"But you said…"

"I said you could say that."

"Huh?"

"You asked if Callen had a lead. I said you could say that." He turned then, mischievous blue eyes meeting confused brown. "I didn't say I _was_ saying that."

She opened her mouth, eyes narrowed, and his own gleamed in anticipation. No matter what she said, she was talking, communicating with him, and he was ready. Ready to listen, ready to respond, ready to begin the journey back to her, to _them_, to their thing. But then she closed her mouth and settled back into her seat again. Disappointed, he turned back to the road, wondering what was on her mind. Wishing he could ask her, and wishing he knew she'd respond.

For once, Kensi thought before she spoke. There was a certain peace between them now, a fragile tenuous truce that she was loath to break. She treasured even the quiet in the car between them, because this wasn't a quiet filled with discord and distrust and harsh words and anger. It was a quiet of friends, of a certain sense of contentment and harmony. She wanted to preserve that peace, so she swallowed her questions and complaints and sat back again. In time, the sun and the breeze and the presence of her partner did what Deeks' pillow had done the night before, and soothed her into an easy sleep.

It was a nip in the breeze that finally woke her, icy fingers tickling her hair and teasing a protracted shudder down her spine. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, then staring around in confusion.

"Deeks?"

"Yes, princess." His tone was amused, a little smug perhaps, but she was so bewildered she didn't pick up on it.

"Where are we?"

"Where do you think we are?"

She turned to stare at him. "Well the last thing I knew we were in Hawaii working on a case."

"Oh, we're still in Hawaii, Fern." He reached behind them and grabbed the bags, dropping hers in her lap. "You might want this." She watched as he unzipped his own bag and pulled out a ski hat, a knitted gaudy affair in green and purple with a huge pom pom attached at the top. Opening her own bag, she pulled out cold weather gear for herself. Her hat was sleek and hot pink, made of the softest knit she'd ever felt. Looking over at him, she couldn't stop herself from smiling broadly at him, eyes warm.

"Deeks, what is all this?"

"It's a hat to keep your ears warm, and a pair of ski pants for your legs and your derriere, and a coat to keep your top half toasty." He grinned as he pulled his gloves out. They were black with big yellow smiley faces all over them. "And we can't forget the oven mitts."

"No, I mean…" She waved her hand around, indicating their surroundings. "What is all this?"

"This, my dear partner, is what's officially known as snow. By definition, it means frozen precipitation that falls from the sky to form a layer of fun on the ground." He avoided her gaze now, delving deeper into his bag. "I thought…I thought we needed a break, and we haven't had one since we got here." She thought his voice sounded a little anxious now. "We need to have a little fun."

There was an extended silence as she took it all in. They'd had a fight, a serious fight. A fight that she had started and that she had made ugly and brutal. They hadn't spoken properly in almost four weeks now. She'd lied to him the previous night, and he'd believed she'd had some kind of assignation without telling him. And despite all that, despite what he believed she'd done and what she actually had done, Deeks had actually gone to all this trouble to bring her here because he thought the two of them needed a break. "Deeks," she said softly. "Thank you."

He looked over at that, and his smile could have rivaled the sun for brilliance. "You're welcome," was all he said in reply. "Now get your goggles on. Don't want to hurt those baby browns."

Two hours later, Kensi was exhausted.

"I don't know why I'm so tired," she said, panting a bit.

"Altitude." He pulled a small water bottle out of his pocket. "Here. It's important to keep hydrated."

"Are we that high up?"

"We're actually at the top of a volcano."

She looked around with interest. It didn't look like Colorado, that's for sure, but she would not have realized it was a volcano either. It did look rather sparse, with more snow than anything else visible. There were a few grey rocks peeking through the snow, and the landscape was barren and uneven. "I keep expecting a Yeti to pop out somewhere," she muttered.

"With them to guard us?" Deeks nodded toward their trio of snowmen, each of them equipped with a weapon of some sort. Kensi had fashioned an AK-47 for hers, Deeks had given his a sawed off shotgun, and their collaborative snowman had a Beretta in one hand and a Sig in the other. Deeks had declared it a perfect combination. "No Yeti would have the nerve to so much as poke a whisker in our direction. They'd take him out in a heartbeat, and then it'd be…" His words ended abruptly as his mouth filled with snow. He raised both hands and began scraping it away from his mouth and face, then looked over at Kensi accusingly. "I thought you were tired?"

She stared at him penitently, ducked her head as if she were sorry. "I was. Guess I got a second wind." He could see the mischief gleaming in her eyes, and knew she wasn't sorry at all.

"You know this means war." He was suiting actions to words, already bending down to fill his own hands with snow. He began to form the world's biggest snowball, and her eyes widened as she began to laugh openly.

"Now come on, Deeks. You don't really want to do that, do you? You know I'm just going to have to retaliate." He stood, holding a snowball at least a full 8 inches across, and then began to stalk slowly towards her. She began backing away. "And then you'll retaliate back, and it'll just be a vicious cycle…" He raised the snowball, and she squealed and turned to run. But the snowball to her back knocked her flat to the ground, face first in a fairly deep drift. She turned over to find him kneeling next to her.

"You okay?"

She was silent for a long moment, thinking of how many times she'd heard those exact words from him. Times she'd been in danger, times she'd been hurt or injured. Times she'd been dealing with emotion she wasn't prepared for. So many times that she literally couldn't count. Long before she'd realized how deep her feelings for him had grown, how much she cared for and _needed_ him in her life, he'd been standing next to her and asking her if she was okay. And everything she'd done, here he was still, trying to make sure she was all right.

"No," she said softly. "I'm not."

As his brow creased in concern, she lifted a handful of snow and lunged toward him. Laughing then, he caught her wrist and twisted, and they tumbled into the snow, rolling once over until they rolled to a stop, Deeks on bottom with her draped across him. He lifted one hand and pushed a tumbled curl behind her ear, and they were both struck by the familiarity of the gesture. _A room full of lasers, her muscles close to collapse, the power of his arms literally yanking her to safety. Her laying across him, his eyes on her mouth, so close to his own. Her longing to reach down, just a breath away, and find out just what it felt like to touch her lips to his. _But they hadn't then, and the moment had slipped away in Callen's call and Sam's concern and cleaning up after the mess the Russians had made.

Now they had a second opportunity. Blue eyes bored into brown, carrying an unmistakable message. He reached up again, this time tracing the edge of her hairline, visible where her hat had tumbled off to one side. She leaned down, raising one cold hand to lay it alongside the side of his jaw, fingertips caressing and stroking the scruff. Their lips grew closer, both of them closing eyes and slowing breath in anticipation….

When two phones rang.

"Ignore it," breathed Kensi, for once the one forgetting herself.

"I can't," groaned Deeks. "We're on duty here. It could be…could be…" His words trailed off, but it was enough to remind Kensi.

"Callen. Or Sam." Disappointed, she rolled to one side and began digging for her phone.

Deeks had his out first. "Do not forget where we were," he said, finger poised on the phone. "We will pick up right where we left off. Soon." He knew they needed to talk, knew there were things that had to be said and dissected and discussed to the bitter end. But if they started out with a more physical communication…well, he figured that wasn't such a bad way to begin. He pushed the button to answer his phone. "Deeks."

"You and Kensi need to get to base, and quick." Callen's voice was quiet, and he could hear what sounded like gunfire in the background. "Sam and I are pinned down. We need back-up."

Deeks rolled to his feet, then pulled Kensi up after him. She was on her phone, talking quietly with Sam. "We're on our way, but we're a solid hour out."

Callen's voice was grim. "I think we can hold out that long. We're behind a tanker in the warehouse. We're not sure how many we're facing, but it's no more than four or five for now. Just…get here as quick as you can." He cut the phone call then.

Deeks could see by the look on Kensi's face that Sam's call had been equally foreboding. Both of them feeling guilty, the two partners ran towards their car, the little snowman family now forgotten and abandoned in light of the danger their teammates were currently facing.

Both of them hoping they could get there in time.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note: Last chapter I forgot to thank you for the reviews and alerts and favorites. I really can't tell you how much they mean to me! When I get stuck or down or just plain busy, having them pop up in my inbox keeps me on track. And when the words come easily, they just plain make me feel good. So thank you to all of you. :)**

**Disclaimer: Still don't own any of them, more's the pity. But I think I'm going to keep Deeks for a while...and possibly McGarrett.**

* * *

><p>Guns drawn, Kensi and Deeks eased forward into the shadows near the walls of the warehouse. There were no sounds inside—no gunfire, no shouts, not so much as a clock ticking. Kensi's heart sank.<p>

"Do you think they're all right?" she whispered in Deeks ear, hoping he understood the unasked question. _Do you think we're too late?_

Deeks was fighting his own inner battle, castigating himself for having been so far out of reach when the call came. He couldn't regret spending time with Kensi, wouldn't regret that he'd been alone with her away from the case, but he wished he'd found something closer to the base, and closer to where Sam and Callen were currently (hopefully) still fighting for their lives.

"Only one way to find out," he whispered in response. He nodded towards a window set high and slightly in front of them. They inched forward, then holstered their guns. Deeks picked up a medium-sized crate from in front of the steel doors just to their right and silently set it down below the window. They carefully climbed on top of the crate and peered through the dirty window.

It was hard to see into the darkened warehouse, and there was no visible movement to alert them to the presence of anyone inside. "This is like Where's Waldo," whispered Deeks. "How much stuff can you fit inside one warehouse?"

"How much stuff does it take to feed and outfit several thousand Marines?" Kensi's eyes kept turning towards the northwest corner. She thought she'd seen something…yes, there it was. The tank truck Sam had described. "Over there, behind that water truck." She gently tapped the far pane of glass in the window. "There they are."

"I see them." Deeks looked toward the opposite side of the warehouse. "Which puts our bogies somewhere right about…there." There was brief flash and the crack of gunfire, and sparks ricocheted off the tank of the water truck behind which Callen and Sam were sheltering. "Yep, I'd say that's the bad guys."

Kensi was eyeing the loft of the warehouse. "Think you can provide some cover for me? I can try and get into that office on the second story, maybe pick a couple of them off. Even the odds a little."

"It's already four or five to two," said Deeks, easing off the crate. "How much more help do you think our guys need?"

"Deeks…."

"I'm kidding." He began to slide the steel doors open. "Mostly."

He held the door open for her, then made his own way through. Pulling it mostly shut, he began to pick his way around the stacks of crates and boxes that formed the maze of the inner warehouse. Kensi slid around the perimeter of the warehouse until she came to the metal staircase that lead to the loft that formed the second story of the building. Crouching down, she waited on her partner to provide her enough cover to get safely to the top.

Deeks was no more than ten feet from Sam and Callen's location when he heard the distinct sound of a safety being released.

"I wouldn't." Sam's voice was curt, forbidding.

"What, is this a private party? I thought we had an invitation."

"Deeks?" That was Callen's voice.

"In the flesh. Kensi's about to take a higher position, see if she can't even the odds a little." Deeks crawled over to where the other two agents were, casting a quick glance over them both. They appeared to be unhurt. "She needs some cover fire to get upstairs."

"We're both out," said Callen. "You didn't happen to bring…?"

"Extra clips?" He pulled them out of his pocket, slid one to each of the other agents. "We did, in fact. Kensi's idea."

Gratefully Sam and Callen reloaded their guns with decisive snaps. Sam looked over the hood of the truck and Callen crouched down behind it. The team leader grinned as he took aim. "Let's see if we can't return the favor."

And all three began firing.

At the heavy burst of gunfire, Kensi started up the stairs, slow and silent. She kept to the far side, trying to stay out of sight, but she must have been spotted because bullets began ricocheting around her. Covering her head with both arms, she ducked and ran the rest of the steps, then hurried into the office—only to find herself face-to-face with a young Marine, face anxious and pasty. He held a gun in one wavering hand, and he began to raise it toward her.

"Federal agent," she said, raising her own weapon and pointing it directly at him. His eyes welled up with tears. "Don't do it," she continued. "Put your weapon down immediately."

But he just shook his head. "I…I have to. If you knew what we'd…what I did. We're going to get caught, and we're going to prison. So I can't…" Crying in earnest now, the poor kid raised his own weapon to eye level. "I can't go to prison."

"Don't." He reminded her so much of another scared, lost Marine. One who'd tried to make things right, tried his best to be a man. But she'd failed him, and he'd failed himself. The ashen features of this Marine began to blur and fade, and another face took shape. A face once beloved, and one she hadn't seen in over seven years now. And as she watched this Marine's finger tighten on the trigger, she knew she was going to die because she was never going to be able to shoot him.

Which was why the gunshot coming from just to her left made her start wildly. She watched a small red spot bloom just over the Marine's heart, and she watched him drop slowly down to the ground, eyes open and unseeing.

"You alright, Kensi?"

The words weren't right, not quite. It wasn't Deeks standing beside her. She'd yet to look over and see who it was, but her response was automatic.

"I'm fine."

But she wasn't. Not really. She'd yet to look away from the dead Marine. Dead kid, more accurately. His features had relaxed in death and now she could see him clearly. He seemed absurdly young, barely old enough to shave or drive a car. So much of his life wasted as his lifeblood seeped out onto the dirty concrete floor. She felt someone grasp her elbow and nudge her away, and she allowed herself to be led to the dumpy brown chair seated near the crowded corner desk. Which was fortunate because once she finally looked away from the wasted life laying on the ground, she felt her knees began to wobble. She sank gratefully into the chair.

"Just sit tight." She realized it was McGarrett, and she was able to turn and meet his calm, reassuring gaze. He briefly rested his hand on the top of her hair, stroking her hair back from her forehead. Then he began to back up. "I've got to go help your team out."

Left alone, she kept her eyes resolutely ahead, resolved not to look back at the body lying behind her. Finding the presence of mind to put on gloves, she began going through the contents of the desk. She found little of value on the top of the desk, but there were a couple of ledgers stuck in the back of the top drawer that could be of interest to the analysts. And in the very bottom drawer, she found a worn leather trifold wallet. One that looked very familiar. One that made her heart start pounding a little harder, and her breath catch in her throat. Opening it, she stared at the image of a man whose face she hadn't physically seen in almost fifteen long years.

It was her father's wallet.

Not even the wild gunfire or cries of rage and pain out in the warehouse itself could have distracted her in that moment. She stroked one finger around the outline of her father's face, set in unsmiling lines in his California driver's license. There were other treasures—a folded note written in a child's hand, red crayon letters wobbly and uncertain. _I luv you daddy. _A tiny picture of the two of them, her dad squatted down next to her, her arm around his shoulders, the same cocky grin on both of their faces. Even at five she'd been the image of him. One grainy shot of her mother holding a baby wrapped tight in a blanket Kensi still had folded carefully in her treasure box at the mission. One by one, Kensi pulled them all out. But it was too much, coming on top of the emotional upheaval of the last few weeks and the death of the Marine who'd reminded her so of Jack. Another reminder of a past failure now coupled with new, and a wallet full of reminders of just exactly what she'd lost. She took the time to carefully refold and replace everything in the wallet, then she stood up.

"Kensi?" She whirled to find Deeks standing in doorway of the office, concern apparent in the tightness of his mouth and the ocean blue gaze. "McGarrett sent me up here. Said you were…said you needed…"

"You?" She looked down, unable to hold his gaze. "I do. I need you to.." She began to move forward, and he backed up to let her pass. "Could you hold this for me, please? Right now I just can't…I can't." She pushed the wallet against his chest, and instinctively his own hand came up to cover hers. "Please don't tell anyone else. You can look. Please look. I need you…I need you with me on this." She moved a little closer, finally finding his eyes with her own. For the first time, she was completely open and readable. She needed him, and she let that need and trust and dependence and a whole host of other emotions shine through mismatched eyes. "I _trust_ you with this." And she slid her hand out from underneath his, leaving him cradling the wallet to his heart.

"Kensi…" And now he was the speechless one. He wanted to tell her how much it meant to him, that blind trust and need. How much _she_ meant to him. But he settled for his old standby, the one that really meant everything because it said everything he needed to say. "You okay?"

And at those words, the ones she'd heard a hundred times in the past few years, she knew the dam really was about to break. Without another sound she fled down the stairs and out of the warehouse, uncaring of any possibility of bad guys or danger or anything really except the need to be alone. Deeks was left holding a worn leather wallet. Mindful of her privacy, he turned away to tuck it into his shirt pocket.

From their vantage point on the floor of the warehouse, Callen and Sam watched what they thought was a heated exchange. It appeared as if Kensi had pushed Deeks away and run out the door and Deeks just stood and watched her, looking both confused and unhappy, before turning away. McGarrett approached them, his eyes also trained on the office landing.

"So. You guys gonna do anything about that?" He turned to look at the other two men who in turn looked at looked at each other. Sam cocked his head to one side, and Callen gave a slight nod before answering.

"As a matter of fact…."

* * *

><p>It took some time to wrap the op up. Island police showed up along with McGarrett's special investigative team. Callen wasn't really surprised to find out that the paperwork and the personnel seemed to take a little longer at the crime scene. Island pace was a lot more relaxed than what he was used to. He tried not to get antsy, but with Kensi still gone somewhere out there and Deeks stalking around as if someone had broken his surfboard and dognapped Monty, he had a hard time standing around playing a waiting game.<p>

Finally the last dead body was removed; it was the young Marine from the office. Sam shook his head, staring down as the coroner zipped up the black body bag. "David Castille."

Callen shook his head, watching as the two coroners' assistants began pushing the gurney toward the waiting van. "Damned shame. Kid couldn't have been more than twenty-two or twenty-three."

"Twenty-one." Sam took a deep breath, tried to shake it off. He turned to look around the warehouse. "Kensi's still not back. You going to track her down?"

"No, I'm going to have Eric do it." He tapped his earwig. "Eric, you there?"

"Here, ready, and waiting. You want me to locate Kensi?"

"Yes, and send me her coordinates as soon as you can." Tapping the earwig to deactivate it, he turned to look at his partner. "So, you want to go over this again, or do you…?"

"I've got it." Sam looked amused. "Are you nervous about this or something', G? Because we've gone over it a dozen times. And it isn't exactly like we're facing hardened criminals or terrorists bent on destroying the world."

"No, we're facing Kensi when she's already upset and angry, and we're going to…"

"I know what we're going to do." Sam didn't look quite so amused any more. "Maybe we should go over it just one more time."

* * *

><p>Following the coordinates Eric had send to his phone, Callen finally ran her down in a small clearing a few hundred yards from the warehouse. She was sitting at the base of a large tropical tree of some kind, head resting on upraised knees and arms wrapped around herself. She was trembling a little, the very picture of dejection, and Callen almost had second thoughts. But he knew he was doing the right thing, believed it had to be done for the good of the team. Taking a deep breath, he pushed his shoulders back and moved to sit next to her.<p>

He could tell she was aware of his presence. Her entire body tightened, and she drew back a little.

"Rough day, huh?" he said sympathetically.

Her head raised and turned toward him. Her eyes were dry but red-rimmed. "You could say that."

"Well I'm about to make things a little easier on you."

Her lips twisted bitterly. "I'm not really sure you can do that."

"Let's try this. I can at least remove one irritant from your life." He turned to watch her carefully. "I've talked to Hetty, and after we fly back to LA you will no longer have Deeks as a partner."

Her face lost every last vestige of color. Even her lips were white. "Wh…what?"

"It's clear things aren't working out between you," he explained. "You haven't talked, you don't joke around, you can't even finish an op together. I saw what happened back there."

"That wasn't….it's not what you think." Her voice was soft, weak, helpless. She hated it. Hated this feeling even more. She'd thought she'd reached her limit on helpless already, thought she'd dealt with the worst life could hand out. And she thought she had handled it pretty well. But this…this could break her. Right now, when everything else was going to hell in a hand basket, the fragile peace she and Deeks had achieved between them was the one thing she had going right in her life, and now even that was going to be yanked away. "Callen, no. You can't do this."

"Kens, it's already done."

* * *

><p>Deeks hurriedly stuffed the wallet back in his shirt pocket as Sam approached him. "Everything wrapped up?"<p>

"Yep. No thanks to you and Kensi."

"Hey, sorry about that." Deeks tried to keep his full attention on Sam, on the last remaining law personnel still milling around the scene, on anything but where Kensi was and how she was feeling. But it was hard. No, it was impossible. She'd found her dad's wallet. He knew it had been missing since her father was murdered. She'd told him he had to be identified using dental records. The wallet was the most significant piece of evidence that had surfaced yet, and she was so overloaded she couldn't even process it.

_And she'd given it to him to keep._

He tried to wrap his mind around that, tried to understand the significance of that single gesture. Her dad had been the most important person in her life, and his murder had left a lasting indelible impression on her that neither time nor distance had softened. She'd sacrificed time and again to do what she could to investigate, to figure out what happened, and he knew it ate at her in the dark of night that she'd gotten no further in fifteen years than the ineffective MPs had gotten immediately after the murder itself. Now here she'd finally _finally_ found something that might begin to lead her to the answers she'd been seeking—and she'd put it into his hands for safekeeping. He took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. Any remaining resentment or anger about their fight melted away as if it had never been there at all. He accepted fully that she hadn't meant those words, hadn't truly believed them at that time or any other. She couldn't possibly have felt that way and put the wallet in his care earlier tonight.

He became aware that Sam was trying to get his attention. "Hey, you in there?"

"Yeah." He kept his expression solemn, determined to respect her request for privacy. "Yeah, I'm here."

"As I was saying, we've been watching, and we know stuff's been going on between you. Even in the middle of an op you're not getting along."

"Hey, no. Really." Deeks realized they'd misinterpreted what had happened at the warehouse between him and Kensi. "That was…it was something else."

"Yeah? What exactly would that be?"

Normally astute and quick as a whip with a ready answer—a necessity for an undercover operative—Deeks couldn't formulate a single response.

"Yeah, I thought so. That's why G and I decided it was time to step in." And Sam held out his hand, palm up, and offered Deeks an earwig. "I think you're going to want to hear this."

Confused, Deeks took the earwig and placed it in his ear, then tapped it just in time to hear Kensi's voice. She was clearly distressed.

"Callen, no. You can't do this."

Callen's voice was calm, implacable.

"Kens, it's already done."

She gasped audibly, and Deeks turned to look at Sam. He was beginning to get angry even though there was no way for the other two agents to know how emotionally overloaded and even fragile Kensi was right now. Accusation in his voice, he pointed at Sam. "What did you do?"

Sam just shook his head and pointed to his earwig.

"Callen, seriously, I….the problems between us these last few weeks…that was all my fault, not Deeks. He didn't do anything. Hasn't done anything to me. Not like I did to him."

"What exactly did you do?"

There was a long silence.

"Please, Callen. I'll do whatever it takes." Her voice cracked, broke, and Deeks imagined her fragile hold on her emotions splintering into a thousand tiny pieces. The anger grew, fanned into instant heat. How dare they do this to her today, of all days? He should be there with her. For her. Kensi continued. "Just…don't do this."

"I'm not doing this to punish you," Callen said gently. "A partnership has to work on all levels in our business. Personally and professionally. And if the personal begins to interfere with the professional, someone's going to get hurt. Or worse."

"Ours did work," insisted Kensi. Her voice was a little choked and muffled. "It did. Deeks is the best partner I've ever had. I _trust_ him, Callen, and you know exactly how hard that is for me to say."

Callen took a deep breath. "But can he trust you?"

Kensi sobbed a little and avoided the question. "I'm….I'm begging you, Callen. Please give me another chance. Please. I'll make it up to him. _Please_." And Deeks couldn't take anymore. In a split second, he had both hands fisted in Sam's shirt.

"Where are they?" Kensi's agony was reflected in the white-hot fury in his voice and eyes. "Dammit, tell me where they are." He could only imagine how bad this was going to get, and he was going to end it right now. If it meant his job he wasn't going to let this go on another second longer.

"Back off," said Sam, working to free his shirt. In his rage Deeks was much stronger than expected, and Sam finally gave up. "Coordinates should already be in your phone."

And with that, Deeks was off.

* * *

><p>Kensi began to cry, silently and desperately. Tears tracked down both cheeks, and she didn't even have the energy to wipe them away. She was that lost child again, a fifteen year old orphan looking for answers, a young lover abandoned on Christmas morning. She turned away from Callen, and so missed him tapping his earwig.<p>

"Deeks is on his way." Sam's voice was calm, and Callen watched Kensi as he listened to his partner. "Think that did it?"

"I hope so," said Callen quietly. "Because that wasn't exactly a lot of fun."

"It'll be worth it if it gets them back on track."

"Yeah." Callen sighed heavily, hoping that Deeks and Kensi would be able to reconcile after this—and would forgive and understand why they'd done it.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Mrs. Ju-lie Lawrence."

Callen and Kensi both turned. Before either of them had time to respond or think about pulling a weapon, there was a sharp retort, and Callen dropped like a stone, a red dot spreading and growing high on one shoulder.

Ricky Castille stood in front of them, weapon now trained on Kensi.

"Or should I call you by your real name? I believe that would be Kensi Blye." He laughed bitterly. "Don't you remember me, little Kensi? It's been almost fifteen years, but I haven't changed that much, have I? Now you….you've changed quite a bit. Not the gangly little girl you used to be." He advanced, and Kensi could do little more than stare at him in disbelief. "I used to come to your house sometimes. Play poker with the boys. With your dad. At least, I did right up until I had to kill him."

Running faster than he'd ever run in his life, Deeks listened in dawning horror as Kensi faced down her father's killer. _Dear God, let me get there in time._


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: Another delay, still more real life, still no one paying me to write Densi. That seems so unfair, doesn't it? Shouldn't we all be paid to write Densi? :)**

**Almost to the end of this one, and it has been a real labor of love. I've spent more time thinking about this one than any fic I've ever written, so I suppose that's a good thing. I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have. :)**

**And as always, thanks so much for for the all the feedback-so many reviews, alerts, and favorites. My first 100 review fic EVER. You guys are awesome!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one. STILL. Darn it.**

* * *

><p>"I used to come to your house sometimes. Play poker with the boys. With your dad. At least, I did right up until I had to kill him."<p>

Kensi watched Castille approach her, unable to look away. Unable to think of grabbing her gun or taking him down or any of the other things a tiny voice in her mind was screaming at her to do. Instead she stood, frozen in shock and disbelief. After all these years and all the time and energy she'd put into finding her father's murderer, to have him thrown at her now had just about taken her breath away.

Callen was moving sluggishly, and Castille grabbed Kensi's arm roughly. "Why don't we take a little walk? You can make this easy on me and just come along quietly. Or you can make it hard," he gestured at Callen, "and I put a bullet through his brain."

Kensi shook her head. "No, please, don't do that. I'll come."

"Before we go, let's just get rid of this, shall we?" Reaching behind Kensi, he removed the gun from her holster and tossed it several feet away. Then he grabbed her roughly, pushing the gun into her upper arm hard enough to leave a bruise. "Now. Come on."

He pushed her in front of him, and then began prodding her in the back with the gun. _I'm going to be black and blue before this is over._ She knew the thought was irrelevant. A few bruises were nothing new, and given the severity of the situation they hardly mattered anyway. But it was far easier to focus on the trivial than it was to understand that she was about to die by the same hand that had ended her father's life.

She trudged along through the trees and greenery, following a path barely visible in the lush vegetation. Castille clearly knew where he was going. Some stubborn spark inside her was telling her to fight back, take him down. She'd taken down bigger men than him before. And then she heard a voice that she hadn't heard in many years, a voice she'd almost forgotten. _Come on, Kensi, don't let him do this to you_, her father whispered in her ear. _Don't let him do to you what he did to me. If he kills you, no one will ever know that he killed me._

And just like that, her heart began to pump again, and strength began to flow back to her limbs. The agent took over, and the lost little girl let her. And Kensi began to plan.

"How did you know it was me?" Her dad was still with her. _That's it. Keep him talking._

"I didn't. Not at first. But when your friend showed up and called you 'Kensi'….well, it's not exactly a common name now, is it?" He laughed a little. "That took me back, it did. I started remembering that Joseph Blye had had a daughter, a little dark-haired thing named Kensi. And I decided maybe it wasn't just a fluke that a bubble-headed ditz named Julie had a guy call her Kensi not long after we moved our operation from Pendleton to the big island. After all, it was the middle of a big move that clued your father in to what we were doing." Kensi tensed, shoulders tightening, and Castille must have noticed. "Didn't know that, did you? Things were chaotic, everyone was stressed, and lips got a little loose. Someone blabbed a few too many times, and your father caught wind of what was going on."

"And he tried to stop you."

"He was a fool," sneered Castille, and Kensi felt her heart crack a little. "Thought being his friend meant more than the money. _Nothing_ means more than the money. He figured out who the leadership was, took us all out for drinks. Tried to talk to us about doing the right thing. As if that mattered compared to the money we were bringing in by doing a little outside-the-books importing and shipping."

"So you killed him for the money?" Kensi came to a sudden stop, ignoring the sharp poke in her shoulder blade from Castille's gun. She turned to face him. "You're telling me that my dad…." she took a deep breath, "my dad's death was about _money_?"

"Money makes the world go 'round, baby girl."

And at that—at his casual dismissal of her father's brutal murder coupled with his use of her dad's pet name for her—at that, she let rage take over. Not the fiery intensity and impulsivity that normally overtook her during times of stress and danger. This was cold and icy, deadly and deliberate. She knew he was going to die. Without another word, she turned and began plodding back along the trail, her mind active as she contemplated and discarded ideas for how she was going to kill this bastard.

* * *

><p>Deeks skidded to a stop as he pushed into the clearing. Kensi and Castille were gone, which was only what he expected. But Callen was still there, trying to push himself into a sitting position. His shoulder was bleeding steadily by the looks of it, and Deeks forced himself to approach. He wanted to be running, moving, finding Kensi and Castille.<p>

"Deeks. Status?" Sam's voice filtered through their earwigs, and Callen turned and saw Deeks approaching.

"Don't worry about me." His voice was low and pain-filled but firm. "Find Kensi. Castille took her northwest." He nodded his head in towards the far end of the clearing. "They're only a few minutes ahead of you." He took a deep breath, closed his eyes. "Deeks…find them soon. Kensi…she needs you."

"Sam, I'm going after Kensi. Callen's been shot."

"I'm almost there." Sam had heard Callen's words. "You go on."

And with one last look at the wounded team leader, Deeks went after his partner.

* * *

><p>The path widened eventually, and Kensi stumbled out of the vegetation of the forest into a well-kept little yard bordering a small wooden house with a wrap-around porch. She thought she could take him when they started up the steps, but he prodded her around back instead.<p>

"Not in my house," he said. "Out back."

He continued to push her around the side of the house. The backyard opened onto a magnificent view. "Like it?" he said, voice as cordial and friendly as if he'd invited her over for drinks. "I bought this place for a song. Short sale. But when I saw this view, I knew it was for me."

She stopped in the middle of the lawn. Several yards in front of them, the lawn disappeared entirely, and beyond that was ocean and sunset as far as the eye could see. "Pretty good digs for a murderer," she said, turning to look out at the water. "And the view is great."

"I'm glad you think so, since it's the last thing you're ever going to see." He chuckled. "You know, I'm almost glad this happened. I hate to leave anything unfinished. I came looking for you that night. The night I did your dad."

"I was out," she muttered through stiff lips. "I was at the movies."

"Just as well for you," he said genially. "Got you a few extra years. What'd you end up doing with yourself?"

"I spend my time taking down scumbags like you," she said, turning away from the view to face him.

"Police?" He shook his head. "I should have guessed, as straight-laced as your dad was. He should have been an MP."

"NCIS," she corrected.

"So NCIS caught on to our little operation." He shrugged. "We've picked up and moved on before. We'll do it again. Too many people involved for it to disappear just because you caught a couple of the minor operators. Of course, we can't risk having the murder of an NCIS agent involved. Which is why this is going to look like a terrible accident." Taking her elbow, he began pulling her towards the edge of the yard, which Kensi could now see ended in a steep drop off to some sixty feet or so below. "Or at least they'll never be able to prove any different."

_Time to do something, baby girl. Throw him off his game._

"Your brother's dead." The words were blunt, intentionally so. Castille stopped in his tracks, and Kensi moved quickly, throwing her elbow into his gut and reaching out to grasp the wrist of his gun hand and draw it down over her upraised knee hard enough to bruise bone. The gun flew from his grasp, landing a couple of feet away from the edge of the cliff. Castille reached out with his free hand and grabbed her ponytail, yanking with enough force that her head went back so far she lost her balance and went down. He immediately tried to retrieve his gun, but she used her right leg to sweep both feet out from under him. He hit the ground hard, and she dove over him, trying to reach the gun first. He lunged in the same direction.

His reach was longer, and his hands were the first to grasp the pistol.

"You're lying. You must want to play games with me. Trying to make this fun?" he asked, panting as he swung the gun around until it pointed directly at her forehead. "Get up. Let's try this again." He stood, pulling her up in front of him, then his eyes widened as he looked past her shoulder. "Ah, if it isn't the adoring husband. Come on out, Mr. Lawrence. Or whatever your real name is."

Gun drawn, Deeks emerged from the side of the house. "Federal agent. Drop your weapon." He walked slowly toward them.

"That's far enough." Castille grabbed Kensi's shoulder, then whipped her around to use as a shield. Thrown off balance, she would have gone down except for the arm he threw around her throat. He kept her down low enough that she couldn't get her feet fully underneath her to stand up, and she was forced to hold on to his arm. With his right hand he pointed the gun at the side of her head.

"Drop your weapon," he said to Deeks. "Or I put a bullet through her brain right now."

"I hardly think that's true," said Deeks, forcing himself to look at Castille instead of Kensi. He had to keep his mind sharp and focused and do what he knew to do. But then Castille pushed the gun into her temple, and she winced and tried to draw away. "Hey," he said sharply, trying to draw Castille's attention. "You kill her and I have no incentive not to drop you where you stand."

"Good point," said Castille thoughtfully. "I guess that means I should neutralize the threat."

"No," whispered Kensi, working to get her feet flat on the ground.

"I've already taken care of another NCIS agent today. Sort of like an appetizer. Kensi…" Castille lifted her chin, pulling her enough that she was able to stand upright, "Well, she's going to be my dessert. So you can be the main course."

Realizing he was going to shoot Deeks just as easily as he'd shot Callen earlier, Kensi lunged forward, cratering into Deeks just as the gun went off. The two of them went down hard, and Deeks had to pull her to one side to get his own gun raised. He shot Castille once center mass, and Castille stumbled backwards two steps, a slightly confused look on his face and hand held to his belly. The other man brought the hand up, looking at pink-smeared fingers, then tried to raise the gun again. Deeks shot once more. The force of this shot sent him back towards the cliff at the edge of the lawn, and Castille disappeared from sight. Deeks heard a short scream that ended abruptly.

"Well. Guess that took care of that." Deeks let his head fall back, pulled Kensi a little tighter to him. "Damn, woman, you pack a mean punch. Felt like a bullet hit me." She didn't respond, and he raised his head so he could see her face. She looked terrible—complexion grayish and clammy, eyes dilated, lips colorless. "Hey, Kens, it's all over now. It's okay." But it was clear she wasn't. He rolled to his side, cradling her in one arm. "Kensi?"

Her head fell back slightly, and she looked up at him. "Deeks? I have to tell you something." She reached up and grasped his shirt in one trembling hand. "What I said…before, at the mission. I didn't mean it." He eased her backwards, eyes widening in shock as he saw that half her shirt was covered in blood. She continued talking. "You…you are the best partner I've ever had. The best…partner anyone could ever have."

"Stop talking," he said tersely, laying her down carefully and sitting up so he could assess the damage. He pulled her hand down gently, laying it on her stomach. His own shirt was bloody, damp and uncomfortable. With _her_ blood. Because she'd taken a bullet meant for him. He unbuttoned the top of the romper and bared her shoulder. The exit wound was high and ugly, torn skin bleeding profusely. He took off his own shirt and crumpled it, intending to use it apply pressure, but a large lump stopped him. He pulled out the wallet, forgotten in the shock of all that had happened—then stopped and stared. Stuck in the middle of the wallet was a hardened, flattened lump of reddish metal. The bullet had gone straight through Kensi's shoulder and toward his own heart—only to be stopped by the wallet in his shirt pocket. His eyes stinging, he laid it aside carefully, then bundled the shirt on either side of Kensi's shoulder and began applying pressure to stop the bleeding.

"I'm so sorry," she continued softly. "I wish I hadn't said any of it." Her voice was fading, eyes closed. "I really didn't…didn't mean any of it."

"Sam? I need some help here." Deeks tried to keep the panic from his voice, wanted to remain calm. But it was so hard as she continued to bleed. The bullet must have hit an artery. It was too high to have hit any organs.

"McGarrett's heading towards you. Should be there any minute."

"I'm so tired." She sighed softly, turning her head sideways toward him. "I couldn't sleep after. After all that. It was…hard, not being able to see you."

"I know, Kens. Don't talk," he said desperately. His shirt was near soaked already. "Just save your strength. We can talk all about it later."

"Okay," she said agreeably. "I'm going to rest now."

_That's it, baby girl. Close your eyes. It's time to sleep now_. She smiled as she heard her father's voice_. You did good._

"Daddy?" Her voice was barely audible. "Daddy, is that you?"

"Stay with me, Kensi," said Deeks, voice loud and firm despite the fearful pounding in his heart. "Stay with me." But she was too tired to stay awake, much too tired even to respond to the entreaty in his voice as he continued to call her name. "Kensi? Kensi!"


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's note: So originally this was supposed to be the final chapter, but it got to be too long and unwieldy. As a result, there will definitely be at least one more chapter coming, plus an epilogue. I will try to be a little more speedy, but real life is intruding in the most delightful way. Plus they're still not paying me to write it. Gotta figure out how to get _that_ job... :)**

**Thank you SO much for all the lovely reviews and alerts and favorites! I haven't been able to respond to every one due to that whole real life thing that keeps sticking its nose in, but I can tell that I savor and reread them all. I'm not going to lie-it's a big motivation to write, and there were days when I needed it. You all are awesome!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one, and I promise to put everyone back almost the same as I found them. :)**

* * *

><p>Deeks sat slumped in the hard plastic chair, elbows resting on his knees and the wallet balanced carefully in both hands. He'd been sitting here virtually unmoving for hours, or at least that's what it felt like. Longer, maybe. An eternity perhaps. Waiting while somewhere back in the oppressive atmosphere of the busy ER, a team of doctors and nurses with their terrifying equipment and needles and monitors were working to save Kensi's life.<p>

It almost didn't feel real. He thought maybe he was in a nightmare, but if he was he'd been unable to make himself wake up. He'd gladly pinch himself into oblivion if he could make this all a terrible dream, but it was all too real. He let his mind drift back to that moment when he'd looked down and seen his partner covered in blood and staring up at him with a greyish complexion and glazed eyes.

She'd grasped his shirt and told him she was sorry, had whispered that he was the best partner she'd ever had and that she hadn't meant anything she'd said back in that stupid pointless fight from weeks ago. For so long he'd thought he'd needed those words, had decided in his arrogance and his certainty that she was going to have to speak first, to apologize and make it up to him. But he'd been granted a terrible moment of clarity as she'd given all that to him and more while blood seeped out of an ugly wound on her shoulder after she'd jumped in front of a bullet meant for him. None of it mattered—not the words or the gesture or who spoke first—none of that mattered in the long run. What did matter was having that person next to you, having them whole and healthy and smiling or frowning or anything really except laying on the ground growing more and more pale as their heartbeat stuttered and grew thready and their eyes closed as they whispered in their long-dead father's ear.

He closed his eyes tight, then rubbed at them with one hand as the other tightened on the wallet. He spared a moment to wish briefly that it was as easy to shut out memories of the night's events as it was to shut out the harsh fluorescent lights and ugly tile of the ER waiting room. He'd replayed it over and over in his head a thousand times, and every time in his head he managed to save her somehow. In one version he pushed her behind him, taking the bullet himself. Sometimes he managed to get to Castille before Castille could fire. Once he'd thrown his own weapon at Castille's head, and the weight of his Beretta had knocked Castille backwards off the cliff. There were many different versions in his mind's eye, but they all had one common thread—at the end of it all, Kensi was happy and healthy and most definitely not laying on the ground bleeding out.

He felt someone sit down next to him, and he turned his head and opened bleary eyes to find Sam staring compassionately at him.

"It's hard, isn't it?" the other man said. "Having a partner."

Deeks was silent for a moment, slightly confused by the comment. "You know, I've had partners before."

"No, you haven't," Sam contradicted calmly. "Not really. You've worked with people before Kensi, but you never really had a partner." Deeks shook his head but didn't respond, so Sam continued. "Partners means more than carpooling to work and hitting a bar together after your shift. Partners—_real_ partners—can finish each other's sentences. They know what the other's thinking. They go through doors together without hesitating because they trust each other." He paused for a moment, eyes knowing as they met Deeks'. "Real partners would give their life for each other. And they'd rather die themselves than see their partner fall in the line of duty."

Deeks let his head fall, no longer able to hold Sam's gaze. "Real partners don't let their partner almost die taking a bullet for them."

"But real partners do take a bullet for each other," said Sam gently. "Kensi is just as much your partner as you are hers. Do you think she wouldn't want to save you just as much as you've saved her in the last two years?"

"Look, Sam, I get what you're trying to say, I really do," began Deeks, getting to his feet. "But I don't think you know what it feels like to have…"

"Don't I?" Sam remained where he was, but he shifted back so he could look up at Deeks. "My partner's back there too."

Deeks looked at him, _really_ looked at him then. Sam's expression was calm, eyes carefully neutral, but his lips were tight and shoulders tense. One fisted hand rested on his knee, and his knuckles were white.

"Sorry, man," Deeks said quietly.

Sam shrugged. "I'm mostly used to it by now. G has a way of getting himself in trouble, and mostly he gets himself out again. But sometimes he doesn't. That's where I come in." He looked down, lips quirked in a half smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I figure partners save each other more often than not. But…" He paused, swallowed.

"Sometimes they don't," Deeks finished quietly.

"Yeah."

Deeks took his seat next to Sam once more, and the two of them sat in companionable silence for some time.

* * *

><p>Deeks was never sure afterward just how long they sat there. He'd had time to carefully pull the bullet from the wallet using a borrowed pair of sterile medical gloves, sealing it in a specimen jar and saving it for evidence. Not that there would be much of an investigation. Two NCIS agents down, and the man who shot them at the bottom of a steep cliff. Castille had no living family, and neither did Kensi or Callen for that matter. The case would be closed quietly in an effort to avoid any further PR black eyes for the Marines and other military personnel.<p>

He'd opened the wallet and looked at the driver's license inside, spent some time staring into Joseph Blye's eyes. Kensi's father, the man who'd raised her up to be Wonder Woman and Jason Bourne all rolled into one. The man who'd been the center of her very existence, and the man whose death had marked her for life. You could see reflections of her father in Kensi's features, although hers were finer and less heavy. But the jawline was the same, as were the lips. He wondered if Joseph Blye had dimples when he smiled. He hadn't looked at anything else in the wallet, although he'd been sorely tempted. He was hoping someday soon Kensi would show it to him herself. Until then, he'd respect her privacy.

Sam and Deeks both looked up as the double doors at the end of the waiting room slid open. A doctor walked in, green scrubs blood-marked and stained.

"G Callen?" he called out. Sam and Deeks both got to their feet and approached him. The doctor waited until they were standing in front of him before speaking. "Gentlemen, I'm Dr. Chuck Kahele. I've been working on Agent Callen this evening."

"How is he?" Sam asked, worry and concern betrayed only in the question.

"He's going to be fine." Dr. Kahele smiled reassuringly at them both. "The bullet deflected off the side of one of his ribs and missed all the major organs. No heart or lung damage. It did crack the rib, and there will be considerable soreness for several days. He's lost some blood, and I suspect he's in more pain than he'll admit. But he will be fine. We're going to keep him overnight, but he should be good to go in the morning."

"Thank you, Doctor." Sam's stance eased a bit as his shoulders relaxed and the tension seeped out of him. It was obvious that Callen's condition had had him worried.

"My pleasure." The doctor turned sideways, gestured toward the door. "He's been moved to a room on the second floor. Would you like to see him?"

Deeks took a step back. "You go ahead. I'm going to wait until I hear about Kensi."

"Agent Blye?" The doctor cocked his head slightly to one side. "I believe she's in surgery right now. If you'd like to wait with Agent Callen, I can send the nurse in to get you when her surgery's complete."

"Thank you, Doctor," Deeks said gratefully. The thought of being alone with his thoughts in the ER waiting room without even Sam for dubious moral support was daunting. "I'd like that."

"Room 214." The doctor held the door open for them, and the two of them went to find Callen.

When they found Callen's room at the somewhat secluded end of a corridor on the second floor, Sam knocked lightly before sticking his head in. "He's asleep", he said quietly to Deeks, holding the door open and then following the other man in.

They sat down in the two matching wooden chairs set at the far side of the single bed in the room. Deeks angled around enough so that he could look out the window, although he couldn't have named one thing visible through the glass in the stillness of the early evening. Sam studied his partner's face, still concerned enough to have worry creases form above his brow. They sat in silence for several minutes before Deeks spoke.

"You know, there's been a lot going on today, and I kind of hate to bring this up, but I gotta ask." He turned to look at Sam, remnants of anger stirring in his blue gaze. "What in the hell were you and Callen trying to pull today?"

Sam had the grace to look shame-faced, his eyes still on his partner's face, more to avoid looking at Deeks at this point than anything else. "We had a plan."

"A plan," Deeks repeated doubtfully.

"Yeah, a plan." Sam took a deep breath. "We knew things weren't going well between you and Kensi. We tried talking to y'all back in the states, but that didn't work."

"That day at the beach," Deeks said, comprehension dawning.

"For both of y'all." Sam's lips quirked. "You two are more alike than you realize. Y'all were within 5 miles of each other, both on the beach, both looking like something the cat dragged in."

Deeks smiled a little. "What does that have to do with today?"

"We saw what happened at the warehouse, up on the second level. Some kind of argument, then she pushed you away and took off running, and you stood there…"

"Because she _asked_ me to. We didn't have a fight today. We were actually starting to reconnect. And that's all I can say." Deeks held up his hand when Sam started to speak. "It's not my story to tell, and if you want to know any more you can ask Kensi. Now explain-o, por favor."

"You weren't fighting?" Sam leaned back in his chair, his head dropping back on the headrest. "I wish we'd known that. We were going to try and…and fix things. We even had a name for it. Operation Fix the Team."

"Go on," said Deeks, brows lowering. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like this.

"See, Callen caught up with Kensi, and he told her…well, he told her that he'd talked to Hetty, and once we were back on the mainland that you wouldn't be her partner any more." Seeing the expression on Deeks' face, he rushed on. "He didn't really mean it. He had ears on, and I had them with me. My job was to get you tapped in so you could hear it all. We figured once we got Kensi to spill how she really felt about you and having you as a partner, you'd have heard the words without her having to say them to you. Then you'd understand how she really feels. And that would…"

"Fix things," said Deeks grimly.

"Yeah. That."

There was another long silence. Sam was thoughtful, a hint of regret on his face. Deeks was trying to calm down enough to discuss this with Sam without resorting to what he really wanted to do, which was punch something. Hard. Eventually he thought he had it under control enough to speak.

"The thing is, Kensi already had a lot going on." Deeks' voice was tense, terse. "I knew that. She had a lot of _personal_ stuff going on. I knew that. She and I had worked on some of our issues. I knew that too. We were working it out ourselves in our own way and our own time. And I knew that. Why didn't you just come and ask me before you went off on some harebrained middle school girl's scheme to try and force things between us? Do you have any idea what kind of damage you did today? Do you even know what you did to her?"

"Don't blame Sam." Callen's voice was soft, barely audible, but it brought both men to their feet.

"G, don't sweat it," said Sam. "It's no big deal. You need to rest. Don't think about it."

Callen ignored him. "Deeks, we didn't intend to cause any further trouble between you two. We thought we were helping."

"Sam's right," Deeks said, moving to the other side of the bed. He couldn't take his anger out on Callen, now when he was in this kind of shape. "Don't try to talk. You should be resting."

Just then, there was a quiet tapping at the door. A pretty blonde nurse stuck her head in. "I'm looking for an Agent Deeks?"

Deeks was quick to respond, not bothering to correct her about his title. There was only one reason a nurse would be looking for him here. "You have news about Agent Blye?"

The nurse smiled reassuringly. "She's in recovery now. The doctor is waiting to talk to you, and then you can go back and see her yourself."

* * *

><p>The first thing Kensi was aware of was the smell. Antiseptic and bleach and that certain distinctive smell that indicated one thing. <em>Hospital<em>. She opened her eyes slowly, cautiously, squinting a little in the obnoxiously bright sunshine that filled the room.

"Kens?" She turned her head slowly to the left as Deeks got to his feet, a painfully anxious look on his face. He took her hand and squeezed it. "Hey there, partner. Glad you finally decided to join us."

She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing but a choked mutter emerged. "Oh, hey, you're probably thirsty." She realized when he spoke just how right he was, and she was pathetically grateful when he retrieved a cup of ice water from beside her bed and then lifted her up enough that she could take a long drink.

"Better?" he asked softly, laying her gently back on the bed..

She nodded, then carefully cleared her throat. "Better." Her voice was rusty and unused, but it worked. "What happened?"

"You don't remember?" She shook her head slowly. "Well, let's see….we got the bad guys. Most of them anyway. Turned out Ricky Castille was actually the leader of the pack. Feds are searching his house and business with a fine-toothed comb, and they've come up with enough to convict him a thousand times over. But he'll be facing judgment on a higher court, I guess." He paused, swallowed hard. "He managed to get a shot off, though. It hit you when you….you jumped in front of me. That was yesterday."

He paused again, watched as memory flooded her eyes. She squeezed his hand now, a hint of urgency in her gaze as she spoke. "You okay?"

He was able to smile at the role reversal. "I'm fine. And since I only say that when I actually mean it, you can take it to the bank."

"What happened to Castille?" Her voice hardened. "I don't know how much you heard, but he's the one who killed my dad."

"They haven't recovered his body yet."

"Did you kill him?"

Deeks face was carefully neutral now. "I did."

She was silent for a long moment as she took it in, then she relaxed visibly. "Thank you."

"Anytime, partner." Deeks watched as her face clouded over, wondering what she was thinking now. "Hey…what's wrong? Are you in pain? Is something hurting?"

"No, I'm fine."

His own expression grew grim. "Clearly you're not. I'm going to get the doctor. Or a nurse. Or someone." The door opened as he turned, and McGarrett stuck his head in, peeking over a huge bouquet of some kind of native tropical flower.

"Am I interrupting?"

"No, you're not," said Kensi, trying to appear normal. Or at least as normal as possible for someone who'd been shot. "Please, come in. Deeks, would you give us a minute?"

"Sure," said Deeks, trying to sound like he meant it. "I'll just go check on Callen."

Kensi waited until she was sure Deeks was gone before she began sitting up. "I need your help," she said to McGarrett, gasping a little as a sharp pain shot through her shoulder. "And I need you to keep this to yourself."

* * *

><p>Deeks gave her an hour just to be on the safe side. He stopped at the nurse's desk long enough to tell her he thought Kensi was in pain, and then he headed off to Callen's room. Callen and Sam were both asleep this time, so after sticking his head in he let the door slip shut and headed off to the cafeteria where he bought some spectacularly bad coffee—so bad it caused him to remember LAPD precinct coffee with fondness and affection—and then carried it out to a small alcove with a reflecting pond complete with a tiny water fall and a miniature bench set amongst lush greenery and exotic blooms. It wasn't quite as relaxing as surfing, but it was a pleasant way to spend a few minutes.<p>

Any lasting relaxation disappeared the moment he opened Kensi's door to discover that she was gone and a hospital staff member was methodically stripping her bed.

"Where did she go?" The woman looked blankly at him. "Agent Blye? The woman who was in this bed? Where is she? Did they move her?"

"I guess they either moved her or she checked out," the woman said, shrugging. "I'm getting the room ready for the next patient."

Deeks took a moment to utter a few choice words under his breath, then headed for the nurse's desk. He said a few even more choice words after he discovered that Kensi had in fact checked herself out, under the doctor's very strong objections. "What in the hell was she thinking?" he said, mostly talking to himself, but one of the nurses answered him anyway.

"She was with that other officer. McGarrett, I think his name was?"

Deeks stared at the nurse a long moment, absorbing that while his eyes narrowed and his face tightened. The nurse, after a quick look at his expression, took two steps back, then found somewhere else to be, and Deeks turned and walked down the hallway, heading towards the hospital's exit.

This was _not_ how this was going to end.

He made a quick call on his way out to the rental. "Eric, I'm going to need you to locate Kensi for me. And while you're at it, see if you can find a local yokel that goes by the name McGarrett."


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's note: Really close to the end of this one. I think I'm going to miss it. Not so much a cliffhanger this time; more like closure to the last chapter. **

**I haven't had time to reply to the feedback like I was in the beginning, but please don't think that I'm not grateful for every single review, favorite, and alert. It means SO MUCH to me when those things pop up in my inbox, and it's great motivation to keep writing. **

**Disclaimer: Despite my wishing every night, I still own NOTHING and NO ONE. But I will find a way to hold on to Deeks after this is over. (And I'm still contemplating McGarrett...)**

* * *

><p>"She's where?" Deeks couldn't have heard Eric properly. Couldn't possibly. Damned fool woman was supposed to be in the hospital recovering from a bullet hole through her shoulder and she was sitting in the airport instead where presumably she was planning a trip somewhere. It made no sense whatsoever. Then again, that was Kensi, rushing in where angels fear to tread.<p>

"She's at the airport." Eric sounded almost apologetic. "And McGarrett is there with her."

Even better. She had McGarrett with her. "Not for long," muttered Deeks grimly.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." Deeks began backing the car out of the hotel parking lot. He'd been chasing his shadow ever since Kensi's precipitous exit from the hospital earlier that day, and his frustration levels were at an all-time high. He was in a ripe mood to take on McGarrett and anyone else trying to stand between him and his partner…and that included Kensi herself. "I don't suppose you can tell me where exactly…"

"Overseas terminal. Looks like…gate 28." Eric's voice was understandably smug.

"You are a miracle worker." Deeks pulled out onto the main road and turned the little red convertible toward the airport and a conversation long overdue. "What would we do without you?"

"A whole lot more pointless driving around."

"You got that right. Thanks, Eric." Deeks ended the call and tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. Then he angled down on the gas and the little car jumped forward. He tried to tamp the anger down to a slow simmer instead of the boiling point he was currently operating at, but it was hard. What was she thinking? Was she thinking at all? _Of course not. She's Kensi Freakin' Blye, Queen of Impulsive and Sometimes Irrational. Got some wild idea about taking a vacation with Lover Boy McGarrett and checks her own fool self out of the hospital when the doctor expressly told her not to. _ He had to make a conscious effort to unclench his jaws at the sound of his own teeth grinding, and he loosened his fingers from their brutal grip on the steering wheel only when it was necessary to make a turn.

It was fortunate there were no pedestrians trying to cross the street when he made the turn into the airport. In his current state of mind he might have driven right over them. It was fortunate for Kensi and McGarrett that he was unable to find a parking place close to the terminal, because the long walk gave him time for some deep breaths of fresh air, which he used to calm himself just a bit. Just enough to get into the airport, anyway. Once inside, it took approximately two minutes of looking around to find her sitting right where Eric had said she would be, just outside of gate 28. She was slumped down in the low-backed airport seating, and McGarrett was seated next to her with his arm around her shoulders. Even as he watched, McGarrett leaned over and said something in her ear, stroking her back as he did so. She nodded a little, and with one last lingering caress the other man stood and began walking in the opposite direction from Deeks. After a moment's thought, Deeks turned and followed him, his eyes straying towards Kensi as he moved. She looked utterly dejected, head bowed and shoulders slumped, and he felt a twinge in the region of his chest once more. He supposed that Sam would say real partners felt each other's pain, too. And Deeks now knew that to be utterly and completely true.

McGarrett turned into one of the newsstands and made his way back to the drink cooler. Deeks was right behind him, and as McGarrett turned with two water bottles in his hand, Deeks reached out and shoved him, causing the other man to stumble back against the refrigerated case.

"Hey," said McGarrett, annoyance and surprise in his voice although his expression remained inscrutable. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I think that should be my question," Deeks growled. "What in the hell do you think _you're_ doing?" He shoved McGarrett backwards once more, ignoring the other customers hurrying to get out of the store and the clerk's annoyed exclamation. "She should be in the hospital. How could you possibly just take her out that way?"

McGarrett moved a step forward, unafraid to get in Deeks' face. "You think I wanted to take her out of the hospital? I did everything I could to try and talk her into staying where she was. She said she was going with me or without me, and the hospital couldn't force her to stay. I couldn't let her go alone."

"So you're telling me you couldn't manage to convince her that now isn't the best time to be taking a vacation or a trip or wherever it is you two are jetting off to?" Deeks sneered. "You're gonna have to do better than that, McGarrett."

McGarrett stared at him as if he'd lost his mind. "_We_ aren't going anywhere. _She_ is going back to Los Angeles. Alone. Told me she had something she needed to do."

Deeks stood there for a moment, trying to assimilate the new information. She wasn't going anywhere with McGarrett. She was going back to LA. She had something to do that was so urgent that she didn't feel like she had time to pack her things or even stay in the hospital and heal. He took a deep breath, feeling the tension ease as he realized that maybe this wasn't what he'd assumed. At the very least it wasn't with McGarrett. "What is it she thinks she needs to do?"

McGarrett shrugged. "She won't say a word. Just says she has to go."

Deeks turned and looked back in her direction, feeling drawn toward her now that his anger was gone. Or mostly gone. "Could be something to do with her father."

"Maybe." McGarrett eyed him consideringly. "You know, this might be a conversation you need to have with her, not me."

"Yeah," said Deeks slowly. He turned around and faced the other man once more. "Hey, sorry about earlier. I was not in the best frame of mind when I got here, and…"

"I get it," said McGarrett. There might have been a twinkle of amusement in his eyes, but it was hard to tell. "Why don't you go talk to your partner?"

"I think I will."

* * *

><p>Kensi was utterly miserable. There was no part of her body that didn't ache, and her shoulder was burning with a sharp steady throb of pain that matched her heartbeat. But the physical pain was nothing when compared to the open wound that was her heart. She wanted nothing more than to collapse into a puddle onto the floor, preferably unconscious, but she knew she couldn't do that. Couldn't rest, couldn't even attempt to relax until she'd accomplished her task.<p>

She heard McGarrett return but she didn't lift her head, not wanting him to see the slow trickle of quiet tears making its way down her cheeks. A water bottle appeared in front of her, and she pointed at the sling and strapping holding her right arm to her body. "I don't think I can open it," she said in a low voice.

"It's open."

She whirled around at the sound of his voice, then gasped as white-hot pain shot through her shoulder at the movement. "Deeks," she said, panting a little as she eased back.

"Hey, easy there." Her face was almost as gray as it had been the day she'd been shot. "You okay?"

"I'm fine."

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Deeks sat back in his seat, never taking his eyes off her face. The long-running joke between them wasn't all that funny when she looked on the verge of collapse and pain was screaming in her eyes. "Clearly you're not, or you wouldn't be here. You'd still be in the hospital where you belong. And where I know for a fact your doctor said you should be. "

"Deeks, I can't be there now. Not yet." She shook her head slightly, then turned back around and let her head drop once more. Her hair fell around her, hiding her features from him. It had worked wonderfully as a disguise for McGarrett, keeping him from seeing her face, but she should have known Deeks wouldn't be deterred so easily. He gently reached out and began smoothing her hair back, tucking it behind her ear and over her shoulder.

"Kensi," he said gently, "please talk to me. What is it you have to do?" His anger had evaporated completely now in the face of her obvious misery. He'd never been able to stand seeing his partner in any kind of pain, and watching her now was killing him. He would have done anything to ease that pain, would have said anything to stop the tears still welling up in her beautiful dark eyes.

"I can't…I don't want to tell you," she said softly. Even though they'd come a long way since the fight, she had a terrible fear that he'd decide it was all for the best and accept it. Or even be grateful. She had to fix this, had to undo the damage before it could be made permanent. Anything less was unacceptable.

"Kensi, come on." He dared to reach out and lay a hand on her shoulder, and when she didn't shrug it off he slid it across until it encircled her body. He pulled her closer, slowly and gently, and she relaxed into the warmth of his hold. "You can't do this to yourself. You should be in the hospital. There's nothing more important than taking care of yourself."

Oh, he was wrong. So very very wrong. There were many things more important than thinking of herself. Her partnership with him, for one. "I promise I'll get checked out once I finish…" She broke off, and his gaze sharpened.

"Finish what?" He tried to joke with her a little, tried to break through the walls just enough to get through to her. "Come on, Kens. If you can't tell your partner all about it, then you might as well…."

"That's just it," she said heatedly, face beginning to flush a bit as she turned to face him. "We aren't partners. Not any more. Callen told me he talked to Hetty, and once we leave here we aren't partners any more."

He looked at her in dawning comprehension, and felt another sharp twinge in his chest. Now he knew exactly what had driven her from the hospital, driven her to get out of the bed where she needed to be in order to attempt to fly across an ocean with a brand new bullet hole in her shoulder. In the rush and hurry of her injury and subsequence ambulance trip to the hospital, there'd been no time to tell her that it was all some misguided attempt on Sam and Callen's part to reunite the two of them. His eyes began to burn just a little bit, and he spared a moment to hope he didn't just break down and cry here in the airport next to her. To think that she'd done this, that their partnership really meant that much to her…it was almost enough to break him down completely.

"That's why I have to leave. I have to go back to LA and go see Hetty and then I have to…I have to…."

"Have to what?" he repeated, his voice soft and tender.

"I have to convince her it was all a mistake." She turned to look at him, reaching out with her uninjured arm and grasping his free hand. He turned his palm up and entwined his fingers through hers, all the while continuing to stroke her back gently with the hand still encircling her body. She continued, "I have to make her understand that you and me….that we work. That we belong together. Because after all this, I don't think I don't think I can stand….I can't lose you."

"You're not going to," said Deeks, smiling at her with the warmth of the sun shining out of those clear blue eyes. "Callen never talked to Hetty. It was all some stupid plan to get us back together. Callen was wired and Sam had ears, and I was supposed to hear you talking. They thought that would be enough to break the ice and get us talking again."

Her eyes narrowed, and she tried to understand what he was saying. "It wasn't real?"

"No, it wasn't."

"Callen and Sam came up with this….this _plan_?"

"They must think they're a whole lot smarter than they are." Although from where he was sitting right now, the plan itself hadn't been a total failure. Not while he was sitting here with his arm around his partner, sharing what could only be considered a _moment_. He was feeling a whole lot more forgiving right now than he had been while he'd listened to Callen goading Kensi.

"I'm going to kill them. Both of them." She sighed, letting her head fall to rest on his shoulder. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying the feeling of her nestling closer. "Just as soon as I'm feeling up to it." Relief made her giddy, and she could have laughed as the biggest of her burdens floated away into nothingness. _Deeks is still my partner. _It was liberating and freeing and possibly even healing. The pain in her shoulder seemed less intense, although exhaustion was truly settling in without the adrenaline of her imminent flight and her quest to change Hetty's mind. "Just between you and me, I'm really not so fine."

"Come on, Kens. Let's get you out of here." He stood up and then began easing her to her feet. "There's a hospital bed that's calling your name." Taking her left hand in his, he slid his other arm behind her back and guided her through the busy airport.

"I'd really rather go back to the hotel room," she said as the glass doors slid open in front of them. Her knees were beginning to wobble a bit, and she hoped the car was close. "There's nothing wrong with me that a good night's rest won't fix."

"How do you say that with a straight face?" He grinned down at her as they stepped off the curb, making their way cautiously across the crosswalk. "I think that's even worse than your traditional response of 'I'm fine', which, as we all know, indicates a complete lack of fine-ness."

She was able to smile back at him, genuinely smile at him, and he felt as if he was walking on air. "Well, this time I really mean it," was all she said.

"Tell you what. I'll make a deal with you. Let's go get you checked out with the doctor, and if he okays it we'll go back to the hotel room and I will personally provide you with all the TLC you can handle."

She cocked her head to one side, considering the offer, before she nodded.

"It's a deal."

* * *

><p><em>Two hours later<em>

"This is so not fair," Kensi grumbled. "I don't belong here." Her lower lip poked out a bit in what on anyone else would be called a pout. "I wanted to go back to the hotel. And I was out. We could have gone straight back. But Deeks insisted we come back here, and…"

"The doctor agreed," interjected the nurse calmly, checking the numbers on the digital monitors attached to Kensi's IV tubing. "You need at least another two courses of antibiotics, and I don't know how you were walking upright without pain meds."

"Well, I have to say that part is sort of nice," conceded Kensi, who privately thought that at this precise moment in time pain meds were a miraculous gift from on high. She was relaxed for the first time since she'd awakened after surgery mainly due to Deeks' gently urging her to actually press the medication release button every so often. "At least until I'm feeling a little bit better."

"And until Dr. Lahanai releases you." The nurse looked her over with a critical eye. "I can say this, Agent Blye. You are definitely looking better than you did when you came in."

"And I can say this—I am definitely feeling better." She looked toward the open door. "In fact, the only thing I need right now is my partner, who has…"

"Impeccable timing, of course," said Deeks smoothly, carrying the go bag he'd purchased for Kensi earlier and a bright tropical flower arrangement in a woven basket container. He'd made sure it was at least half again bigger than the one McGarrett had brought earlier.

"I was going to say my toothbrush, but your answer works okay too." The nurse, who'd thought pain meds made a difference in the expression on Kensi's face, realized in the face of her glowing countenance that it was nothing compared to the presence of the man with the rumpled blonde hair. _Partners? Hmph. That's not the half of it. Wonder who they think they're fooling. _


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's note: Final full chapter! So it's been a bit of a long journey for this one, at least for me it felt that way. I have enjoyed it so much, though. Is it weird to say this is my favorite of the fics I've written to date? Because weird or not, I'm going to say it. I can't tell you how much I've appreciated the overwhelming response I've gotten. Between alerts and favorites and incredible reviews, this has been one of my best fic experiences ever. **

**In many ways I'm sad to see this one end. And I'm not sure it's completely finished, because I have a little germ of an idea for an epilogue. But right now I'm more or less overwhelmed with love for the show itself. How awesome were both parts of Blye, K? Especially part 2, which in my mind is the best ep of the show to date. LOVE this show, and love these characters, especially Kensi and Deeks. I've already had a couple of new ideas, but I think I'm going to be digesting those eps for a little while before I can write anything fresh.**

** Sigh. I had a severe case of writer's block with the last couple of chapters. Much love and thanks go out to _MioneAlterEgo_, who provided invaluable assistance in shaking the writer's block and also knocking a few plot bunnies loose.**

**Disclaimer: I do not nor have I ever claimed to own anyone or anything, especially not these characters. But I really really wish I did...  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Kensi eased back onto the cloth-covered beach chair, her legs resting on the sand in front of her. She raised her arms above her head and pointed her toes, stretching like a cat in the warm golden sunlight, then relaxed again, enjoying the view. The ocean was a gorgeous blue-green, crossing the length of the horizon as far as the eye could see, but it that wasn't what was curving the corners of her lips upward. No, it was the sight of her partner riding the waves, all golden and muscles and tanned, smooth skin that seemed to have put a permanent smile on her face.<p>

_He looks like he was born for this. Born for this time and this place and definitely for the express unwritten purpose of surfing in this ocean. _She knew she wasn't the only woman on the beach thinking about him, and she definitely wasn't the only one watching him surf. There were women of all ages and body types and hair colors on the beach, sitting or swimming or working on their tans, and the only thing they all seemed to have in common was an eye for her partner. But she didn't let them bother her. Much. Deeks had promised her personal TLC when he picked her up from the hospital, and he'd delivered in spades. There was no one else in Deeks' worldview except for her right now. She'd actually had to push him just to surf, and he would only take to the waves once he'd stationed her someplace comfortable with something to drink and a snack in case she got hungry, and plenty of space in case she decided to take a nap. The only thing missing was a cabana boy waving palm fronds at her, and with a little smirk she thought to herself that he'd have provided that or possibly done it himself if it had occurred to him.

She closed her eyes, secure in the knowledge that her partner was safe and so was she. It was a feeling that most people took for granted, but in their line of work it was a luxury to know that no one was currently shooting at or causing explosions near or in any way endangering either one of them. Well, aside from Deeks' tendency to head for the deepest waves and biggest swells. Her lips quirked again, and she opened her eyes just enough to look for….yes, there he was. Trust Deeks to find a way to endanger his own life when no one else was.

She looked up as someone approached, shading her eyes with one hand then smiling in welcome. McGarrett looked down at the sand for a moment, then sat down next to her.

"Hey, Ju-lie," he greeted her. "You're looking fairly hale and hearty for someone who got shot just over two weeks ago."

"Spending your days and nights either on the beach or being pampered by your partner will do that for you," she said, sighing luxuriantly and sitting up just a bit. "Deeks is taking very good care of me."

"Well, you did take a bullet for the guy." McGarrett grinned at her. "Seems like the least he could do."

"If you only knew. Back in Los Angeles the shoe is too often on the other foot." She pulled her knees up toward her chest and put both arms around them. "What brings you to the beach? Or is this how you boys work out here on the islands?"

"Actually I came to see you." Sobering, he looked searchingly at her for a long moment before continuing. "We've wrapped up the investigation into Castille's death. During the course of it we found some things I think you'll want to see."

"Proof?" Kensi swallowed hard. It was the answer she'd been waiting for, the question she'd been asking for over half her life. She reached out and grasped his wrist. "You have proof that he murdered my father? Proof that would be admissible in court?"

"Kensi, you know this will never go to trial, right?" he reminded her gently.

"I know. I'm not asking for a trial." Letting his wrist go, she wrapped her arm back around her knees and looked out toward the water, but in her mind's eye she was seeing her father's face. "My dad was an honorable man. He didn't deserve what happened to him. And he didn't deserve having it swept under the rug for fifteen years. Now the only record we've got is Castille's voice on tape, and without having had a warrant that isn't enough to officially clear my father's name."

"You're right. You're absolutely right. And so long as that's all you need, then I think I can help." Steve nodded slowly, then smiled reassuringly. "We found proof."

She let out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

"He'd kept meticulous records. Of everything. Smuggled goods, both bought and sold. Drug deals. Human trafficking. Assaults, robberies, even counterfeiting and money laundering. There are very few criminal pies that our Mr. Castille didn't have a finger in."

"And murder," she murmured.

"And murder." McGarrett confirmed. "Not just your dad's, although his was the first documented. Almost everyone else in your dad's regiment. Most of them beaten to death. A few in more calculated ways. Towards the end it looked like he was experimenting. Trying to find the perfect way to kill. He'd also take out competitors in whatever field he was dabbling at the time, and that includes his legitimate businesses. There have been three realtors that have died unexpectedly since he started selling real estate."

"And he kept records? Of _everything_?"

"We think he believed he'd never be caught. And he might have been right." McGarrett nodded towards Kensi. "If it hadn't been for you and your team."

Anything Kensi might have said in response was lost as Deeks approached, shaking himself vigorously. Kensi and McGarrett each moved toward the opposite side, hands raised against the onslaught of cast off water droplets deluging them both.

"Hey, McGarrett," Deeks said brightly. "So glad to see you here, buddy. Hey, mind if I sit down too?" And he perched in between the other two, forcing them to move even further apart. "This is nice, isn't it? All of us sitting here. Together. Yeah."

"Actually, I was just leaving," said McGarrett, managing not to smile openly. But there was a distinct twinkle in his gaze when he leaned forward to see around Deeks. "Kensi, let me know when you want to come out and look at what we've got."

"I'll do that," said Kensi. "And Steve, thank you. From the bottom of my heart."

With a quick nod, McGarrett got up and then made his way back down the beach. Kensi looked at Deeks, head cocked to one side. "Subtle," she said to him, lips quirked. "Very subtle."

"What?" said Deeks defensively. "I was just wanting to…hang out with the guy." _Or hang him. One or the other. _While he'd come to appreciate that McGarrett's role in Kensi's life was that of trusted friend, that didn't mean he had to like it. And it certainly didn't mean he was all that comfortable with the two of them getting chummy. He'd been enjoying some fairly stellar waves and keeping a vigilant eye on his partner at the same time, and when he'd seen the other man sitting next to her on the beach he'd decided it was a good time for a break. "So. What do you want to do next? Grab a bite? Take a nap? Watch me conquer the waves?"

"Hmm," said Kensi, looking back out at the water. "Are those my only options? I'm not hungry since you loaded me up with enough junk food to feed an army, and I'm fully rested and energized from all the naps you keep talking me into. So I think I'll just sit here and enjoy this gorgeous view. It'll be sunset before long, and those are pretty spectacular." She glanced sideways at him. "Of course, the view's not so bad when someone's doing some kind of fancy surfing stunt out there either. If you wanted to hit a few more before we leave, anyway."

"Actually I kind of like your plan." Deeks pulled out the second beach chair he'd brought, set it just to her right, then sat down, stretching out to dry off in the sunlight. He liked the way their legs looked together, laying companionably close in the sand. _Okay, let's be honest. I mostly like the way her legs look next to mine. Because…damn. _Her legs were long and smooth, slender and golden. And just plain gorgeous. His legs looked like they always looked, tanned and hairy and fairly muscular. But their legs together, with the blue-green of the ocean spread out before them, looked like an ad for some tropical vacation resort. He grinned at his partner. "I think I'll just sit here and enjoy the view."

Her hand was laying on the sand, conveniently close to his. It didn't take much effort to reach out and twine his fingers through hers. She smiled, and he smiled back, and the two partners sat back to enjoy the sunshine and each other.

* * *

><p>Deeks used his key card to unlock the door, then held it open for Kensi to enter their suite. Hetty had miraculously agreed to allow them to stay for an extra two weeks. Deeks wondered if Callen and Sam had had anything to do with it. Callen and Kensi had both needed the extra time to recover from their wounds, but even above and beyond that the other two agents had been uncharacteristically humble since the showdown at Castille's place. He figured they were probably feeling a little guilty about their plan to "fix the team", which, if it had not directly resulted in Kensi being shot, had certainly contributed. For that matter, their little plan had caused Callen's injury as well. Finding her father's wallet had already upset Kensi, but Callen's little trick had absolutely devastated her emotionally. And Callen wouldn't have been out in the woods at all if he hadn't been putting the plan into action.<p>

Deeks frowned at that. _Kensi would have been alone in the woods if it hadn't been for the plan_. Deeks would have given her some time to herself to deal with her emotions, so he wouldn't have gone after her. Not until it was too late, anyway. Because of the plan, Eric had already been tracking Kensi's GPS, and Deeks had not only heard the confrontation between Castille and Kensi but he'd already been following Kensi before it started. As a result, he'd been only minutes behind them. So maybe…just maybe the plan had actually helped save Kensi's life. That was something he was going to have to think about for a while.

Not that he was planning on letting Sam and Callen off the hook in any case. What they had done was still interfering and unnecessary. He and Kensi had always and would always work their own problems out best. They'd already started the reconciliation process on their own before the other two stepped in. Deeks felt sure that no matter how bleak things had looked in the beginning, he and Kensi would have worked their way around things in the end. They were partners.

But that didn't mean everything was perfect. Deeks had developed a tendency to lay awake in the darkness of the night. Mostly he listened to the reassuring sounds of Kensi breathing, occasionally feeling the warmth of her hand as she slay sleeping next to him. He'd had a hard time forgetting the sound of her breath, shallow and faint, and the feel of her heartbeat going thready and stuttering as she lay bleeding out on the verdant green in front of Castille's magnificent view. He'd fought then, fought to keep her awake and alive, but she'd drifted off anyway. Her eyes had closed and he'd been terrified he'd never see them open again, never get another chance to look into that chocolate brown gaze. So he lay and counted his blessings as he counted her breaths, grateful for second chances.

But sometimes…sometimes doubt crept in. He knew that Kensi regretted what had happened and what she'd said, but he couldn't quite seem to convince himself that she hadn't spoken the truth. That she didn't really believe it somewhere deep down inside. He didn't bring it up, and neither did she, and so the topic went untouched.

This was their last night in Hawaii, and Deeks knew if he didn't bring it up before they returned to LA he probably never would. Things were different here. They were still living in the same hotel suite, still sleeping in the same bed, and even though they weren't on the case anymore they'd allowed their covers to continue. Back in LA they'd go back to being Deeks and Kensi, but here while they were still living as and acting like Mike and Julie they were softer toward each other, more affectionate and tender. More open in many ways, despite the fact that they were living a lie.

So that night, after a meal provided by room service and enjoyed out on their own private lanai, Deeks finally worked up the nerve to broach the subject.

Kensi was leaning back in her seat, one leg crossed over the other. He realized she never sat like this at home. He was struck by her grace, more apparent than usual in the innate femininity of her pose. Perhaps that was why she never sat like that. Living and working in what was still in many ways a man's world, perhaps it was easier on her to sit like a man, knees spread or boots propped up on a nearby table or desk. Was that the real Kensi? Or was the softer, more graceful Kensi he saw before him the real thing? Then he remembered her dancing lightly up the back of a truck to take out an armed terrorist. Flexing her body backward at an impossible angle to dodge between two lethal laser beams, the lines of her torso unutterably lovely. He decided she was graceful no matter what form she chose.

"Kens," he said, drawing her attention and her gaze. "Are you sure you don't want anything else? Something to drink maybe? Or there's ice cream, or maybe another piece of that cake."

"Deeks, you really don't have to keep waiting on me like this," she said, smiling gently at him. "I'm still stuffed from dinner and dessert. I don't think I could eat a bite."

Deeks' voice was hesitant when he spoke next. "I kind of hate to bring this up now. You and I have been getting along so well. You've hardly beaten on me at all." Her lips quirked at that, but he could see her shoulders tensing up. "But I have to ask. Kens, back in LA…what was all that?"

She looked down at her hands, clasped together in her lap. "Deeks, none of that was real. You know I didn't mean it." He was silent, not responding, and she went on. "You are my partner. I trust you more than anyone else. I depend on you. I…" She stopped, and he wondered what she was going to say.

"So where did that all come from?"

"I…I don't know."

He went on, feeling pressed, knowing he was pressing her. "I'm sorry, Kens, but that isn't enough. Not after… Look, I just need to know, why me?"

"Deeks, I told you, I don't know." She sounded harried, her voice forced. She looked over at him, a hint of desperation in her eyes, but he was looking down now, shaking his head. She thought she saw something final in the set of his features, a decision made perhaps. "I really don't know."

"I don't know either, Kensi." He sighed deeply. "It just seems like you really came after _me_, and I wish I knew why.'

Feeling driven, she got to her feet and began pacing. "You want to know why? You _really_ want to know why? Fine. Because I could, all right?" She didn't know where the words came from, didn't know what she was going to say before she said it, but somehow she knew what she was saying was absolutely true. He looked up, stunned and speechless, and she continued. "Because I could! Because I could say it to you and you would take it. Because I had all these feelings I didn't know what to do with, and I could say those things to you and you wouldn't…you wouldn't…" She paused then, her eyes widening a bit. Her voice was somewhat muted, softer as she spoke now. "You wouldn't leave. Somehow inside, something in me knew that I could say whatever I want and you…you wouldn't leave." Tears welled in her eyes, and she repeated the words, dawning comprehension in the angle of her neck and the tilt of her head. "You won't leave."

He understood just what that meant. Knew what it meant that she could say it, but even more that she could _feel_ it. That she believed in him that much. He got to his feet and moved to stand in front of her, cupping the fine lines of her cheekbones with each hand. Twin tears escaped and made tracks down her cheeks, and he wiped them away with his thumbs.

"That day was horrible," she choked out, looking up into his eyes. "I'd just gotten back from Hawaii, and Granger met me at the door and chewed me up one side and down the other. I went to the range but my gun jammed, and I couldn't think of anything but trying to get into the gym to punch my way into oblivion. And you…you were there, and then all of a sudden it was all spilling out. And Deeks…I'm so sorry, but I think it's because I feel so…safe with you." Her hands reached up and grasped his shirt, as if to hold him in place. "I know you won't leave. You aren't like the rest. Because you won't leave…me."

Touched beyond words, Deeks leaned forward and kissed her forehead gently. He felt as if he were walking on a tightwire high above the ground, or maybe just walking on the clouds themselves. The air felt different, the oxygen in his lungs a little sweeter and cleaner. He thought maybe he'd grown a few inches as she spoke, her words building and rearranging the atoms and molecules that made up his body.

"You're exactly right, Kensi. I won't leave you." He folded her into his arms, and she nestled against him as if she belonged, her face burrowing into his neck. She kissed him there on the side of his neck, softly and gently, and he thought maybe it was the single sweetest kiss he'd ever received. "No matter what you say or how you say it or what you do. Or how many times you punch me." She laughed a little, her voice muffled, and he rubbed her back gently, up and down, reassuring with touch as he continued. "There is nothing you can do that's going to make me leave you. But if you could quit trying quite so hard to test that theory…"

"I'm done. I think." She sobered, and he could feel the muscles in her back tighten up once more. He continued to stroke, long and slow, until he felt her begin to relax again. "I didn't know that was coming, you know. When I did it. I didn't _mean_ to do it."

"Well Nate could probably figure out the whys and the hows, but honestly…" He paused a moment, thinking. He didn't want to lie to her, didn't want to deceive her. Not when she'd been so painfully honest. "You know, Kens, I think knowing why and how it happened took away a lot of the sting. So I guess if you ever need a punching bag again, I'd be willing…"

"Shhh. Deeks, don't say that." Kensi leaned back, looking up at him. She searched his face as if looking for a mark. He thought maybe it was the mark that the punching bag might have left on his face. "I still can't believe I did that. That could have really hurt you."

"But it didn't, so don't…" His voice stopped suddenly on an indrawn breath as she began planting soft kisses across his face—the corner of his mouth, the tip of his nose, his chin and cheekbones and jaw. He let his breath out slowly. "Then again, if you _really_ feel like you need to do that, don't let me stop you."

Kensi leaned back again, searching his eyes. There was a question in her eyes, and something more, something he couldn't easily identify. Something warm and soft. Something that made his own heart beat a little faster.

"Actually…" she said slowly, her voice hesitant. "That was something I enjoyed. Sort of a lot."

"Actually," he repeated, "that was something I enjoyed too. And not just sort of a lot. Definitely a lot. A lot a lot." He smiled broadly at her then, pulled her close once more. Her own smile was radiant, and both her arms crept around his neck.

"In that case, I can't think of a better way to spend our last night in Hawaii."

"On that, we are in complete agreement." He leaned down, his last word spoken with his lips pressed against hers. "Partner."

And the rest of the evening, their last night in Hawaii, was spent in perfect accord.


	13. Epilogue

**A/N: Well, this is it; the actual real and true final chapter to what has become my longest fanfic to date. I have to say it is with some sadness that I say goodbye to this one. Fortunately the next one is already in the works. :)**

**As always, thank you SO much to anyone who favorited or set alerts or especially left a review. There were so many times that I got discouraged or had a serious case of writer's block and then a review came across my inbox and got me right back on track again. If I did not respond individually to you, it was not for lack of appreciation on my part but lack of time. Please know that I truly am eternally grateful. **

**Special thanks to Mel, aka imahistorian, who is the best beta I have ever had bar none. She not only kept me on track but helped me hone and clarify in too many ways to count. Special thanks also to Jenn, aka MioneAlterEgo, who provided inspiration and fuel when the creative tank ran dry.**

**Disclaimer: Despite my best efforts, I still own nothing. Not even Deeks. Life's just not fair.**

* * *

><p>Deeks lay back in the sand, the warm glow of sunshine easing past his closed eyelids. Without opening them, he reached out and touched the back of his partner's hand. They'd always been touchy with each other, sitting next to each other with shoulders touching or leaning towards each other while standing, but since their fight and the trip to Hawaii, they'd become even more so. In the time they spent together, rarely did more than ten or fifteen minutes go by without one or the other of them making physical contact. Deeks sometimes thought they were reestablishing the shared intimacy they'd lost after the conflict in the gym. He had no complaints, since touching Kensi and having her touch him was one of the highlights of his day. A light touch of the hand, a tickle with a toe. Deeks had grown fond of playing with a strand of Kensi's hair, although he tried not to do that with Sam or Callen around. Which was not that often, at least not since the other two had picked Deeks and Kensi up when they landed at LAX.<p>

"Pizza tonight?" Kensi asked lazily, not bothering to open her eyes.

"I don't know." Deeks took a deep breath, exhaling slowly with a satisfied hum. "We had that the night before last. I think there are still some leftovers at your place."

"I was thinking something different." Kensi sat up a little now, turning to rest her head on her hand, elbow braced in the sand as she looked down at him. "There's a pizza place in Pasadena that's supposed to have Chicago style. I think it's called….something Rays."

Deeks turned on his side as well, suppressing a grin. "Well I was in the mood for California style, full-on vegetarian pizza. And we all know the only place to get that Chichi's in Calabasas."

He heard two heavy, longsuffering sighs behind him.

"What will we do?" Kensi murmured, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "One from the west side of town, one from the east."

"I don't know," said Deeks. "Here you are, recuperating from an injury, supposed to be taking it easy. And I'm supposed to be taking care of you. I can't exactly run off and leave you all alone, so I guess we'll just…"

"Oh, skip it," said Sam shortly. "Just tell us what you want."

Deeks and Kensi both turned to look at the other two agents, sitting in shortened beach chairs behind them. While most of the people on the beach were enjoying themselves, laughing and joking or just relaxing in the sunlight, the two senior agents looked both forbidding and sulky. Which suited Deeks just fine.

"Why, Sam, are you and Callen volunteering to go pick up the food?" Deeks grinned widely at them both. "In that case, you won't mind taking separate cars, will you?"

"Deeks, you know we only came in one car. " Callen tried to keep his tone reasonable.

"Well I was just thinking that taking separate cars will speed things up a little." Deeks turned and met Kensi's gaze, winking at her conspiratorially.

Sam didn't bother trying to sound reasonable. He sounded just like he felt. Tense and irritable. "We'd have to drive all the way back to the Mission to get Callen's car first then. That's downtown."

"Kensi is looking a little….peckish."

Kensi cocked an eyebrow at her partner. She wondered how exactly she was supposed to look peckish, given that she wasn't completely certain what it meant. Trust Deeks to talk like a maiden aunt from the 1940s. Correctly reading her expression, Deeks offered clarification.

"You know, hungry. And peaky. A little faint, even."

Kensi let her lips droop, trying to adopt the appropriate demeanor. "Now that I think about it, I am feeling a little peckish. And maybe even a little peaky."

Resigned to their fate, the two senior agents stood. "So, Chicago deep dish from something Rays and California vegetarian from ChiChi's. Anything else?"

Kensi tried dutifully to suppress a smile. "Don't forget beer. That dark stuff Deeks likes…."

"And the cheap stuff for Kensi." He grinned at her. "Nothing says classy like the cheap stuff."

"Nothing says pretentious like the dark stuff," she retorted. "Seriously, we live in Southern California, not New Glocken…shire. Who drinks ale around here?"

"For your information, Miss Beer and Ice Cream, there are a number of quite normal individuals who enjoy a certain level of sophistication with their alcoholic beverage of choice. I just happen to be one of them."

"Oh really?" She snorted inelegantly, and Deeks was hard-pressed not to smile at the sheer familiarity of the sound. "So you consider yourself to have a certain level of sophistication? This from the guy whose idea of formal entertainment involves wet t-shirts and jello?"

"Sometimes the t-shirts can have collars."

"Enough!" interrupted Sam, stepping forward. He continued with gritty determination and gritted teeth. "Just tell us what you want and we'll go get it."

"Isn't that what we were doing?" said Kensi innocently.

"Some people should really relax a little," whispered Deeks just loud enough for Sam and Callen.

When Sam growled, they complied without any further delay.

* * *

><p>After Sam's Challenger pulled out of the parking lot, Kensi hummed in satisfaction and lay back down, closing her eyes once more.<p>

"You know, we have to let them off the hook at some point," she murmured. "It's been three days since we got back."

"Yeah, and three days isn't nearly long enough." Deeks was just a little less relaxed now. "Think about what they pulled. You can't have forgotten already. I haven't."

"No, I haven't either. It's just that…" She paused, considering her words. "What they did was well-intentioned, even if it didn't come off quite as they'd planned."

Deeks sat up, shoulders tensing. "If you could have heard your voice when Callen was talking to you, telling you that…"

"…that we weren't going to be partners anymore." Kensi sat up as well. She reached out and laid a hand on his arm, rubbing lightly to try and get him to relax. "I remember it clearly. Coming on top of finding my dad's wallet in that warehouse, and facing down that boy… It was about the worst thing that could have happened." She eased her hand under his own, then leaned her head on his shoulder. "Truth be told, Deeks, it would have been the worst thing that could have happened even without all the other stuff."

He leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, then let his cheek rest against her hair. She smelled tropical and sweet at the same time, sunscreen and pomegranate shampoo and that indefinable something that was uniquely her own all combining to sing _Kensi_ to him as he breathed her in. "Wouldn't ever happen, Fern," he said gently. "I wouldn't let it happen. Not to us." She squeezed his hand in response, and he curled his fingers around hers.

But Deeks couldn't forget what the other two agents had done as easily as she apparently had. He didn't have the capacity that she had to forgive, at least not when it came to her. Maybe it would have been easier if he'd been the one who'd been shot. Maybe then he could tell himself that Callen and Sam had had good intentions, the best of intentions, and he could write off what they'd done as well-meaning interference. Maybe if he hadn't been the one listening as Callen's 'well-meaning interference' shattered an already fragile Kensi's composure, listening as she started to cry and plead with Callen. Maybe if he hadn't heard her _beg_ Callen not to do it.

Deliberately he unclenched his jaw and told himself to relax. He was here with Kensi, sitting on a beautiful beach watching a glorious sunset. Now was the time to enjoy what he had, not dwell on what had happened. He lifted her hand up and kissed it, then twined his fingers through hers. "Given what they pulled, I don't think a full week is too much to expect."

"A full week of what?" she asked languidly.

"Come on, Fern, keep up," he chided softly. "Callen and Sam."

"Oh, that." She cocked her head to one side, contemplating the reflection of dying sunlight on waves. "As long as I'm still on Hetty's enforced recovery time, I don't guess it's so much for them to pick up a couple of meals."

"Run a few errands for us."

"Bring us to the beach to enjoy the sunset." She sighed a little as she spoke.

"Or to enjoy a morning surf," he said, grinning. "Tomorrow I think I may have them clean my apartment."

"And mine," supplied Kensi. Deeks snorted, and her voice rose defensively. "Hey, I have other things to do besides make a bed that I'm just going to sleep in again, or vacuum a floor when you'll be tracking in sand anyway."

"That's one way to look at it," Deeks conceded. "Or one way to get out of doing it. But as for having Callen and Sam clean it for you…"

"Well, maybe I wouldn't." She wrinkled her nose. "I don't think I want either one of them going through my…..laundry."

He looked over at her, head popping instantly upright. "I'd be happy to help you go through your…..laundry. Especially the tiny, lacy kind of…..laundry."

She nudged him with her shoulder, laughing a little, and he nudged her back. And the two of them relaxed for a time, the comfortable familiarity of the exchange settling them as nothing else could, as they watched the sun setting behind the cerulean blue waves.. It really was a glorious sunset.

Later, much later, after the pizza was reduced to few leftover crusts and their empties had been deposited in a recycling barrel behind the lifeguard stand, they watched as Callen and Sam strolled down the beach together. The two senior agents weren't talking to each other, weren't really even walking next to each other, but they were still completely in accord and in tune with each other. Deeks wondered how long it had taken them to establish the kind of unspoken intimacy they shared, the ability to know each other's thoughts and finish each other's sentences, the unshaken belief in each other, and the knowledge that no matter what kind of disagreements or differences of opinions they had, at the end of the day their partnership would still be standing on a firm foundation of caring and respect.

"Look at them," Kensi said suddenly. Her next words revealed that her thoughts were running parallel to Deeks' own. "They have a strong partnership. Have always had one, ever since I've known them. You think they ever fight?"

"Sure." Deeks cocked his head to one side, hand held up as he counted off his fingers. "There was that time that Callen borrowed Sam's favorite pair of Manolo Blahniks without asking, and then that time when Sam stood Callen up for dinner and a movie. That one time they both were passing notes to the same girl after gym class. Oh, and how about when Callen tattled to Hetty about Sam using her…."

"Deeks, I'm serious," Kensi interrupted, but her eyes stayed on the other two. Her voice turned a little wistful. "I just wish…do you think our partnership is that strong?"

"Nope," Deeks said matter-of-factly. He smiled at her when she turned to face him, hurt evident in her gaze. "I think ours is better. Would they take a bullet for each other? Sure, but so would we. Maybe they can finish each other's sentences, but…"

"So can we?" she asked, lips quirked.

"Exactly. And maybe I can't read your mind, or sometimes have the slightest inkling what is going through that…very active brain of yours, but I think I like it that way." He reached out with one finger, touched her nose gently. "Some day I may solve The Many Mysteries of Kensi Blye, but it won't be any time soon. In the meanwhile I'm enjoying my _very_ thorough investigation."

"I like that," she murmured, leaning a little closer to him.

"But the best, the very best part of being partners with you is something Sam and Callen will never share." He leaned closer as well, tilted his head slightly.

"What do you mean?"

"This," he whispered, one hand coming up to sift through her hair and cup the back of her head. He let his lips brush hers once, then again, lingering a third time, melting into a kiss that had Kensi's toes curling in sheer pleasure and him fighting back a moan. Her hands slipped around his neck, then slid further, pulling them closer together until her torso was tight against his, overbalancing him. He fell backwards into the soft sand, ending on his back with her draped across him. A position he was quite happy to prolong, her soft, taut skin sliding over his, his fingers trailing down her back and then up along her spine.

And then she looked up…and giggled.

He angled his head back, only to find two sets of men's legs standing inches from their heads. One dark and heavily muscled, the other more slender and surprisingly hairy.

"Hey, guys," Deeks said lamely. "Um….back from your moonlight stroll?"

"What do you two think you're doing?" Sam's voice was short, terse.

"Well, we were…that is…" Deeks tried to roll Kensi over gently to one side, intending to face the other two standing up. At least up until the point Sam decked him with one of those meaty fists. But Kensi was resistant, and even while she was recovering from a gunshot wound, trying to move a resistant Kensi Blye was like trying to herd cats. She lay where she was, so he remained where he was, knowing he was at a distinct disadvantage.

"What does it look like we're doing?" said Kensi, now verging on belligerent. "We're two healthy adults enjoying the beach. So what's it matter to you what we're…"

"You both have homes. Can't you save it 'til you get to one of them?" Callen sounded aggrieved, but Deeks thought there was a gleam of amusement in his eyes as he gazed down at the two younger agents.

"Or get a room." Sam's voice was still short, but now Deeks realized there was no real anger there. "Like all the other people do who are trying to scratch that particular itch."

"Hey." Deeks' own voice was short now, and he finally managed to dislodge Kensi long enough to get to his feet. He reached down and helped her up before continuing. "We aren't out trying to 'scratch an itch', as you so eloquently put it. I care about Kensi, and she cares about me. She's my…"

"Partner," Kensi finished for him. "But it's more than that. _We're_ more than that. When we're together, we're…"

"Happy," supplied Deeks. "We make each other happy. When we're not driving each other crazy."

They grinned at each other, in perfect accord once more. Sam rolled his eyes, and Callen smirked at the two of them before he spoke.

"Okay." They both stared at him, startled. "What? Did you think no one had figured it out?"

Sam huffed impatiently. "You two have been doing this little dance since Tracey couldn't quit thinking about Jason Wyler." Deeks turned to stare at his partner, and there was a hint of pink in Kensi's cheeks. "You're just lucky we didn't start an office pool."

"A pool?" echoed Deeks faintly.

"Not to mention that we're detectives. We detect." Callen smirked at turning Deeks' own words against him.

"But we…" whispered Kensi.

Sam stepped forward, standing directly in front of them. "Look, I get that you have your whole 'thing', and part of the 'thing' is not talking about the 'thing'. But just because you two don't talk about it doesn't mean that no one else at the office does."

Deeks turned to look at Kensi, her eyes wide with apprehension, before turning back to face Sam. "Even Hetty?"

"Even Hetty." Callen stepped forward now. He knew what the two junior agents were thinking, knew exactly what they feared. "And if she had a problem with it, she'd say something."

"And so would we," broke in Sam. He met Deeks' gaze squarely. "But instead of saying something, we've been driving all over town, running your errands, getting your meals.."

"Cleaning our apartments," murmured Deeks, unable to stop himself. "Oh, wait. That's tomorrow."

"Cleaning your…" Sam closed his eyes briefly, took a deep breath, then continued. "Never mind. The point is that we know, we've always known, and we're okay with it."

Callen spoke, his voice softer than Sam's. "Now can we take you two partners home? Sam and I do have our own lives, which we'd like to get back to at some point before we retire."

There was a long silence then, as both senior agents met Deeks' gaze head on. Callen's lips curved up in a miniature smirk, and Sam nodded at the younger man. Something passed between them as they stood there, an undercurrent of regret and acceptance, of warmth and respect. Knowing that the two senior agents not only knew about his relationship with Kensi but also approved made it possible for Deeks to take a deep breath, then slowly exhale as he finally let go of the last remainder of anger and hostility toward the other men.

"Sure, you can take us home," said Kensi, oblivious to the undercurrents as she bent down to pick up the beach blanket she and Deeks had been sharing. She was still a little dazed at this latest revelation. So everyone in the team knew? Even Eric and Nell? _Hetty_? No, that was far too much to contemplate today. She pushed the thought aside and started folding the beach blanket as Deeks picked up the basket and began reloading it with the other things they'd brought with them to the beach. "We can leave right now."

"Absolutely," agreed Deeks. "And we'll go right home." Callen and Sam had just started to relax, relieved at the end of their penance for the day, when Deeks continued. "We just need one little thing to finish off our evening." He and Kensi looked at each other for a long moment, then spoke together.

"Dessert."


End file.
